Sweat, Chains, and Love
by luvcmpunk314
Summary: John Cena has wanted CM Punk for months. He's never had the chance to act on it but lately Punk seems to be receptive to John's attention. But John has a big secret. If he can win over Punk, can he convince him to stick around after he learns what makes John tick? My first ever fanfic. Rated M for m/m slash, language, and eventual BDSM scenes.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I just discovered WWE fanfiction a few months ago. And I loved it so much I wanted to try my hand at it! So this will be a multi-chapter story featuring Punk and Cena starting the night of Extreme Rules.

CM Punk lay on his side in the medics room with a bag of ice taped to his side. That flying elbow drop off the top rope and onto Jericho, putting them both through a table, had looked awesome for the cameras and been fun to pull off. But now his side, hell his whole body hurt like a sonuvabitch. The trainers and medics knew better than to offer him anything stronger than aspirin, which tonight he'd refused, so after they wrapped him in ice they'd left him to lie in peace on one of the beds. But that peace was broken as the door banged open followed by the loud protestations of the WWE poster boy.

"Damnit, I don't need anybody looking at my head, I'm fine! I already had to deal with this shit when those fuckers stopped the match to mop it up."

Punk uttered an overly loud and obnoxiously fake gasp. "Cena! Language! Didn't Vince tell you that the PG rules apply whether the cameras are rolling or not?"

Cena's head snapped around when he heard Punk's voice. Punk smirked at John. Even though their on-screen feud was over, he couldn't help but needle the big doof whenever he had the chance. Something about the square- jawed face of the company just brought it out in him.

Cena shut up as soon as he saw who was in the medic's room with him. He settled down on one of the other beds in the room and let them tend to the cut on his head that Brock had opened up.

"So your little hissy fit is over? Good. I'm trying to rest for a moment." Punk laid his head back down and shut his eyes.

Cena still didn't say anything. It was pathetic but lately he was always tongue tied when in Punk's presence. And since he didn't want to sound even more like the doofus Punk often accused him of being, he just didn't say anything at all. But when he'd sat down he'd made sure to sit facing Punk's bed so that he could watch the smaller dark haired man. As he bent his head so that the medic could clean his cut he looked at Punk from underneath his lashes. He didn't look like he was too badly banged up after that brutal street fight with Chris. He admitted that the two men had put on a stellar match, but he hated seeing Punk take such hard blows. Hell during the last matches of their feud he'd often wanted to temper his strength so as not to hurt the man he was becoming obsessed with. But he knew that would only piss Punk off as his main goal was always to put on a good match that didn't pull any punches. When their feud was over he'd been glad that he didn't have to hurt Punk anymore, but depressed that they probably wouldn't be spending any more time together. No more going over scripts back stage. No more practice time in the ring where they worked on their move sets. And definitely no more occasions to feel those silky smooth thighs wrapped around his body as Punk put him in a submission hold. So here he sat letting the medics work on a cut that probably wouldn't even need a Band-Aid and check to make sure that the overly stiff Brock hadn't strained his arm too much just so that he'd have the chance to be in Punk's presence. But maybe tonight he'd have the chance to talk to Punk, if he could just get rid of the people fussing over him. Using his politest tone he smiled up at the medics.

"You know guys I think I'm alright. Thanks for treating me. I think I'll just lie here for a minute if that's ok?" The pair agreed with a round of, "Sure, John no problem." Before cleaning up and leaving the room. Cena sighed and laid down – still facing Punk of course.

Punk spoke up without opening his eyes. "You're such a goodie goodie. Why didn't you just tell them to fuck off?"

"You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar," John replied.

Punk's eyes finally opened as he leveled an incredulous look at Cena. "Tell me you did not just say that."

John just shrugged and quickly changed the subject before Punk could get on a roll mocking him. "That was quite a match you and Jericho put on. That elbow drop onto the table will wind up on about a dozen highlight films."

Punk smirked. "I know. Best in the world, remember?"

John rolled his eyes and laughed. He was surprised when Punk laughed too.

"So what was up with that promo you cut at the end of your match? That wasn't on script."

John blew out a frustrated breath. "I just know that all that Super Cena bullshit is gonna be all over the web tomorrow since I beat Brock. I guess I was just trying to show a little character weakness."

"Drum up sympathy you mean."

Cena cut his eyes over to Punk, tempted to deny it. But honestly, that's exactly what he'd been doing. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

Punk rose up on his elbow, his green eyes wide. "Did I hear that right? Did the Great John Cena just admit to trolling for sympathy? _And_ say that I'm right?"

John looked Punk in the eye. "Yeah I did. So?"

Punk tilted his head as he maintained eye contact with John. It made John feel like the dark haired man was studying him, searching for something. And although John was worried that Punk would read in his face, in his eyes the lust and feelings that John held for him, he didn't break eye contact. He was too glad of this chance to talk to Punk to risk doing anything that might end it.

Punk finally dropped his gaze and sat up. "The crowd chants and IWC bitching really get to you, huh?"

John sat up as well. "As much as I hate to admit it, yeah it does. Didn't the boos ever bother you?"

Punk laughed. "Are you kidding? I thrived on being a heel. It suits my asshole personality so much better." He ripped off the ice packs and dumped them into the trash.

John watched entranced as Punk stretched his arms over his head and leaned slowly to the right and then to the left. John wanted to run his hands over that smooth skin. He would glide his fingers up his torso, further up his tattooed arms until he grasped Punk's wrists in his fists to restrain him. His mouth went dry as he imagined leaning in to nibble on those adorable ears. He could almost feel the shiver that would run through Punk as he whispered in his ear all the things that he was going to do to him and Punk would be helpless to stop him. John snapped out of his daydream as he realized that Punk was calling his name, and probably had done so more than once. He replied to the last statement that he remembered Punk making. "I don't think you're an asshole."

Punk's voice was full of sarcasm. "Thanks John-boy. Knowing that now maybe I'll be able to sleep for eight hours straight tonight." He started to head for the door. I was asking if you wanted to go to Denny's but if you're too tired or zoned out then don't worry about it."

John jumped off the table in a messy scramble. _Shit!_ He'd almost missed the chance to hang out with Punk a little longer. "No, I'm awake and hungry." Christ, did his voice just drop on that last word? "Let's go."

"Alright then. Meet me in the parking lot after you shower."

John trailed behind Punk as they walked into Denny's trying to keep his goofy smile under control. He'd been out to eat with Punk before, but it was always with a big group of the roster. They'd never gone with just the two of them. After they were seated John couldn't help but tease Punk. "I'm not gonna have to watch you suck back some disgusting vegetable juice mix am I?"

Punk snorted. "I already finished my latest juice fast. So you've been spared."

They sat there discussing the pay-per-view as they waited for their food to arrive. Once the server dropped off their plates they both quieted and tucked into their food. John had pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, and hash browns, Punk a veggie omelet and toast with fruit on the side.

Punk gestured at John's plate with his fork. "How do you manage to eat all of that?"

John smiled. "What can I say? I'm a big boy."

Punk ran his eyes over the breadth of John's shoulders and down his chest before looking him in the eye. "Yes you are."

John froze. Was Punk flirting with him? Before he could think how to respond, Punk dropped his gaze and went back to eating. John's fingers tensed on his fork. He'd been attracted to Punk every since he'd shown up in the WWE. To him, Punk had a dark and intense beauty that drew him like a magnet. Everything from his silky black hair, to his sharp green eyes, to his thin lips kissed by that little silver lip ring held John in thrall. And that didn't even begin to cover what Punk's slender yet strong body covered in colorful tattoos did to him. Well shit it gave him a raging hard-on is what it did, but they hadn't had too much opportunity to cross paths over the years as they'd spent so much time on different brands so John hadn't bothered to act on it. But now after the past year they'd spent so much time together because of their feud that John got to know the Straight Edge Superstar a lot better. And the more he learned the more he liked until he was desperate for the chance to be with Punk. But John wasn't sure how to approach him so for months he'd watched Punk from afar growing more and more frustrated as their interactions basically ground to a halt. But tonight … tonight he was here alone with Punk, who might have just flirted with him a bit and so once again John was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He must not have been too successful though as he heard Punk ask, "What's so funny?"

John took a bite of pancakes and chewed slowly to give himself time to answer. He couldn't say the real reason, that he was happy that the two of them were spending time together. Finally he just settled on, "I was just thinking that it's strange, the two of us hanging out together." He flicked his eyes up to make eye contact with Punk. "Alone."

Punk took a sip of his Pepsi, holding the eye contact with John. "Hmmph. That is strange. Especially since we had such great … chemistry last year."

John's heart started to beat faster. Punk _was_ flirting with him! He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. Ok, he was _pretty_ sure that Punk was flirting with him, but if he wasn't he didn't want to look like an ass. But the moment ended as the server came up to them to ask if they needed anything else. Punk sat back in his chair and shook his head, asking for the check. John fought not to grind his teeth in frustration as Punk changed the subject to discussing the other matches that took place that night. The damn waitress had just had to come over at that moment! When she came back and laid the check on the table, he snatched it up and pulled out cash to cover it before Punk could do so. Punk just smirked.

"Hey no need to go all caveman. I'm not gonna complain if you want to buy my food."

He took one last sip of his drink and stood up. John had no choice but to follow regretting the loss of the chance he'd almost had to approach Punk. And they'd come in separate cars so they wouldn't have to go back to the arena so there went any chance to talk on the way to the hotel. As they headed out to their rentals John closed his eyes as the cool night breeze blew Punk's scent back to him. He inhaled deeply stifling a groan as he took that wonderful scent down into his lungs. Punk always smelled so good and John wanted to grab him and rub his face against that soft skin and just breathe until he couldn't smell anything else. But at the rate things were going that was never going to happen. He opened his eyes and saw Punk watching him with a strange expression on his face.

"Well alright, Cena. I'll see you tomorrow night."

John busied himself unlocking his car door so Punk couldn't see the disappointment on his face. "Yeah, Punk. See you tomorrow."

TBC - I hope you like what I've written so far. I know not much happened here but I've already got the next chapter written, just need to edit it. Reviews and comments for my first story will be appreciated! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

The next night, John slouched in his chair in the monitor bay watching the opening for RAW. It was going to be a long boring night for him since he wasn't scheduled to go out until the dark match. He was surprised as hell when Punk flopped down into the empty seat next to him.

Punk raised his eyebrows at him. "What? You want me to move?"

John uncrossed his arms and straightened up out of his slouch. "No man, you're welcome to chill here."

Punk smirked. "I thought so."

They sat there and discussed the show as it went on. Well John discussed. Punk just mocked everything in his usual sarcastic way causing John to crack up several times. Especially when he joked that the face the Miz made when he got up on top of the turn buckles looked like a Rock- Howard the Duck hybrid. John had to agree with Punk when he threw his hands up in exasperation after the ref screwed up the count during Jericho's beat the clock match. He knew that Jericho wasn't supposed to win it overall, but there went the tension they could have built all night until Bryan did beat his time.

John looked at the clock in surprise as Bryan appeared on the monitor ready to face his opponent and Punk got up. The night had flown by with Punk besides him to talk to. John watched as Punk adjusted his kick pads. He was going to go out there and congratulate Bryan on successfully winning the beat the clock challenge at the end of this match. John's eyes slipped down to Punk's ass in his tight black trunks. He wondered if he could get away with a slap on the butt and a "go get 'em champ!" John laughed to himself knowing if he did Punk was likely to spin around and kick him in the head. But as Punk bent over and touched his toes in a stretch, thrusting his ass in the air, John thought that maybe the kick might be worth it. Punk stayed folded in half as he twisted at the waist, his ass swaying back and forth with the movement. John bit his lip to keep a moan from escaping as his cock started to thicken in his shorts. God, Punk's ass was so firm and round and John's palms tingled as he imagined grabbing those cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them wide so he could slide his cock home in Punk's tight little body. In a daze he started to lean forward and who knows what he would have done if he hadn't heard someone calling his name. He dragged his gaze away from Punk to find Randy sitting on his other side with a knowing smile on his face.

"I hate to interrupt your viewing pleasure." Randy cut his eyes over to Punk who'd finally straightened. "But I didn't think you'd want everyone to see you take a bite out of the Second City Saint's ass."

John growled, "Shut up!" out of the side of his mouth, hoping that Punk hadn't heard Randy. Randy just laughed out loud at John.

Punk swung around at the sound. When he saw who it was he nodded his head in greeting. "Orton." They weren't the best of friends but they were at least cordial to each other. Randy returned the greeting and Punk noticed he still had a smile lurking around his mouth. Punk started to ask what he was smiling about then he snorted to himself in dismissal. _Whatever_. He didn't really care what Orton had been laughing about. He turned back to John.

"I don't know why I'm stretching – it's not like I'm about to wrestle." He shrugged and answered his own question. "Force of habit I guess."

Randy spoke up. "I'm sure your efforts were appreciated."

Punk opened his mouth to ask the Viper what he meant by that comment but John spoke first.

"Hey Randy, don't you need to get out of here and get back to Cody?"

Randy stood up and cracked his neck. "Nah, I've got a few hours before my flight to go join my boy. But I do need to go and get a bite to eat." He turned and looked down at John with a shit-eating grin on his face. "What about you Johnny? Are you gonna get a _bite_ tonight?"

As Punk watched a dull red crept across John's cheekbones. He was confused for a minute. It seemed like Orton was flirting with John, but from what he knew the man was insanely possessive of Rhodes and was completely faithful to him. Oh well. Maybe things changed. But he was even more confused when John told the tall man to fuck off and Randy walked away laughing with John glaring at his back.

Punk ran his hand over his slicked back hair. "Hey, man I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cock block or anything by hanging out with you."

John's head snapped back around to his. "Hell no I'm not with Randy! He's just being an asshole. Besides, Cody would skin him alive if he even so much as looked at somebody else."

Punk eyebrows went up. "Huh. I figured that'd be the other way around."

John snorted. "With those two, you never know who's going to be doing the cutting for the night."

Punk felt his eyes get big at John's remark. _What the hell did that mean?_

John groaned and pressed his hands to his eyes. "Look. Forget I said that."

"Okaaaay. So then do you want to go get something to eat after? I'm sure there's gotta be a Denny's a Hornswoggle's throw from here." As he watched John dropped his hands slowly and Punk felt a funny lift in his stomach as John looked straight at him with those bright blue eyes.

"Yeah, Punk. I'd like that."

Punk dropped his gaze, for some reason unable to look John in the eye any longer. "Well I didn't feel like driving when I got off the plane so I took a cab. Is it cool if I ride with you to eat and then back to the hotel?"

John tried not to sound too eager as he replied. "Yeah sure it's no problem. Just meet me back here after the show." John didn't even try to stop the smile from breaking across his face as he watched Punk snap his title on before heading up to the gorilla position. Tonight he'd get to hang with Punk for the second time in a row and they'd have some alone time together in the car. As he got up to head out for his own segment he had to remind himself that he was supposed to be showing a hurt demeanor to the crowd. John jumped up and down a few times to shake off that excited energy before putting on his sling. He couldn't wait for later tonight.

John sat in his rental with Punk in the hotel parking lot. They'd let the windows down to let in the cool Ohio night air as they talked. They'd talked about everything from sports to movies to cereal and it was nice. It wasn't often that John got to talk about things besides wrestling and Punk had some pretty interesting views on a lot of things. But now it was so late that the conversation had slowed and they just relaxed with the seats reclined, their heads lolling back against the headrests, yet still facing each other. John watched as Punk's eyes drifted closed. He knew he should say something about them heading inside, but he didn't want the night to end. So instead he let his gaze roam over Punk's features, enjoying the opportunity to look at him without notice. John had often thought that "This Fire Burns" was a perfect song for Punk. The man always seemed to have a burning passion for every word he spoke blazing from his eyes until the very air around him almost crackled with electricity. But here with his eyes closed, dark lashes resting against his cheeks, that intensity was muted. John smiled at the bump in Punk's nose from it being broken more than once. And of course his eyes were caught by the tiny bit of silver on Punk's lip gleaming softly in the lights of the dash. What would it be like to feel that cool metal press against his lips? How would Punk react if he dragged his tongue across it before tugging on it with his teeth? He raised his eyes up from Punk's mouth and saw that Punk's eyes were open and he was watching him.

John didn't apologize for staring at him, he didn't say anything. He just did what he'd been wanting to do for so damn long. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Punk's. They were warm and soft, just as he'd imagined they'd be. John pulled back waiting to see Punk's reaction. When Punk didn't say anything John kissed him again and this time he felt the other man's lips return the kiss. After several closed mouth kisses, John ran his tongue across the seam of Punk's closed lips wanting him to open up so he could taste him further. Punk's eyes drifted closed again and he parted his lips, allowing John to sweep inside. He stroked his tongue slowly against Punk's before exploring the warm sweet cavern of Punk's mouth. He groaned and his cock started to harden when he felt Punk's tongue rubbing against his for the first time.

John couldn't believe it. He was finally, finally getting to kiss the man he'd been lusting after for what seemed like forever. Their lips clung and released again and again. John fought to keep the kiss soft and slow, pushing back his desire to plunder Punk's mouth and touch his firm body wherever he could reach. But then Punk whispered a breathy little moan as he relaxed further into the kiss. The sound went straight to John's gut and his control slipped. He was barely aware when his hand came up and grabbed the back of Punk's neck holding the smaller man in place as John deepened the kiss. He thrust his tongue inside to tangle with Punk's, swirling against it in a hot, slick slide over and over again. John groaned as he kissed Punk faster, harder. And Punk was right there with him, kissing him back with just as much intensity. Twisting at the hips John arched closer to Punk and tightened his fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him up against him until their chests touched. John's cock, hard before, now started to throb at the contact. When he pulled back slightly they were both panting for breath but John dove right back in, sucking at Punk's bottom lip before lapping at the lip ring that had been teasing him for years. He felt Punk's hands come up to his chest and he thought, _yes. Touch me_. But then he realized Punk was pushing him away.

John released him and watched in confusion as Punk grabbed his bag from the car floor and snapped, "Goddamnit, John!" before slamming out of the car and stalking off towards the hotel.

John sat there in disbelief before he banged his head against the steering wheel slowly. What. The. Fuck. He hunched over the wheel for a moment trying to figure out what just happened while willing his hard-on to go down. Eventually his body calmed but he was still clueless on Punk's abrupt exit. He knew he wasn't going to figure it out sitting there in the dark by himself, so he just grabbed his own bag and dragged himself up to his room.

As he opened the door to his hotel room, he didn't bother turning on the lights. He dropped his bag on the floor before stripping off his clothes, letting them fall on the floor too. John flopped onto his back on the hotel bed. Seriously, what the fuck? Where had he gone wrong? The only thing he could think was that he'd gotten too intense in the kiss as Punk had seemed to be liking it and responding at first. He blew out a frustrated breath. He wanted Punk so bad that whenever he was near his fingers ached with the urge to grab the man and pull that slender body up against his own. But he wanted Punk for more than just one or two nights in bed, which meant that eventually he was going to have to come clean about his … preferences. But if Punk wasn't into that and it scared him off, then John would be left with the knowledge that he'd run off the one man he wanted to build a relationship with. He'd already bolted after their kiss tonight, which didn't bode well for the possibility of future sexual activities. John felt like he was going to have to walk a fine line between what he should do and what he wanted to do as he pursued Punk. And he was definitely going to pursue him as the kiss tonight proved Punk was attracted to John.

As John thought about their kiss his erection came surging back. Punk's mouth had been so warm and his tongue soft and slick. John wanted to kiss him again and again. John's eyes closed and his hand drifted down his belly to grab his cock thru his boxers as he thought about what else could have happened in the car tonight. In his head he heard Punk whisper how much he liked his kisses as he gave that sexy little moan again. John would have whispered back, "Let's see what else you like," before kissing his way up Punk's jawline until he reached one of those cute little ears. He'd nibble all around the rounded shell of his ear before sucking the tender lobe into his mouth and biting down sharply. Punk would gasp at the pleasure-pain, his body arching towards John's as he sought more of the same. By now John's imaginings had grown into a full-blown vision behind his closed eye lids and he was so hard he hurt. There was no way he was going to be able to fall asleep without giving himself some relief. He pushed his boxers down his thighs and fisted his naked cock as his fantasy played out.

"_Did you like that, baby?" _

"_Yes. Do it again," Punk moaned. _

_John shook his head as he moved down to lick at the pulse point on Punk's neck. "That's not the way this works. You don't get to issue demands." He bit down on the spot and sucked the warm salty skin into his mouth before releasing it. "Understand?" _

_When Punk nodded, John grabbed one of his hands and brought it to his chest. "Touch me." Punk complied stroking his hand over the muscles of John's chest before moving up to massage his shoulder. Then his hand swept back down John's torso, hesitating when it met the hem of John's shirt. John smiled when Punk looked at him as though asking permission. "What baby? Tell me what you want." _

_Punk bit his lip before whispering. "I want to touch skin. I want … I want to touch your cock." _

_John slid his hand up Punk's long slender throat and pulled him close enough for their lips to touch. "Then go ahead," he whispered back. John pressed his lips to Punk's just as Punk's fingers lightly rubbed against his stomach. They hesitated, dancing across the skin there before moving down and opening John's jeans. Punk trailed his fingers up John's cock and John groaned. He was hard and aching, trapped behind his boxers. When he felt Punk tugging at the material he lifted his hips slightly so Punk could drag his underwear down enough to free him. Punk's hand wrapped around his shaft and John rewarded him by sucking that earlobe back into his mouth, biting down just a bit harder than he had before. Both men moaned. John moved back to Punk's mouth, kissing him deep, their tongues rubbing against each other as Punk started to stroke his fist up and down John's cock. _

_John broke their kiss to speak against Punk's lips. "Faster. Make me come." John thrust his hips up as Punk tightened his grip and sped up his pace. The precum leaking from the thick head of John's cock aided his slide through Punk's fist. John grabbed Punk by the back of the neck again to pull him into a rough kiss, their lips smashing together as he felt his orgasm building low in his stomach, his balls tight and ready to erupt. This time Punk broke their kiss as he leaned up to whisper in John's ear. "John, I want you to fuck me." Then he rubbed his thumb across the slit on the head of John's cock before squeezing the head tight. John threw his head back against the headrest, groaning long and deep in his throat as his orgasm came barreling up his shaft …_

On the bed John's hips rose over and over as he fucked into his own fist, his orgasm shooting out of his cock to cover his fingers and stomach in hot cum. "Fuck!" He stroked himself a few more times until finally all the tension drained from his body. He lay there on the bed gasping for breath. If imaginary sex with Punk was that good, John couldn't wait to experience it for real. He reached down and grabbed the shirt he'd dropped earlier to wipe himself off. Johnrolled under the covers to go to sleep, knowing he'd probably dream about Punk. And he was okay with that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything or know anyone from the WWE. The closest I'll ever get to Punk and Cena are wearing their licensed t-shirts. I'm not making any money from this story – it's just my own imaginings that I finally got the nerve to type up.

**Warning**: m/m smutty slash and language. Stop now if you're offended by gay sex. (Although you prolly wouldn't have opened this story if you are)

**A/N**: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews and follows of my first story! Gotta say this is pretty cool – especially getting reviews from some of my fave authors on here – Miss Toughie, Slaygirl 190, Xenarocks999, CenaRKO1986 and several others. So this chapter is kinda long. There were several spots I could have stopped it – but I was on a roll so I'm posting it all. Hope you like!

John walked into the arena for RAW the next week in a shitty mood. Punk had avoided him at the RAW house shows after their kiss and hadn't responded to any of his texts. He'd wanted to have the chance to talk to him to find out why he'd run off the other night. But with Punk dodging him that hadn't happened. Now he was even further away from being with Punk than he had been before he kissed him and that pissed him off. Tonight he'd decided that he wasn't going to let Punk avoid him anymore. Since they'd kissed Punk was aware he was attracted to him, so he might as well lay all his cards on the table. Punk was going to talk him whether he liked it or not.

John stood in the shadows of the mouth of the hallway Punk would have to pass to get to the monitor bay. As soon as he saw Punk walk past he grabbed his arm, pulling him into the semi-lit hallway. John was surprised that Punk didn't resist, but he did expect the smart ass comment.

"Hello, Cena. I didn't know you were a stalker."

John ignored that and backed Punk up against the wall, caging him in with both his hands planted on the wall next to Punk's head. "You've been avoiding me."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Clearly."

John kept his growl of frustration behind his teeth. "_Why_ have you been avoiding me?"

"Because you kissed me," Punk snapped.

"Yeah, I did. And you kissed me back. So why did you run off like that?"

Punk looked offended. "I didn't _run off_."

It was John's turn to roll his eyes. "Fine. Stalked off in a manly rage, whatever. Why did you leave?"

Punk looked up at John. From the determined expression on his face, he figured John wasn't going to let him leave this hallway until he had answers to his questions. "Look. Kissing wasn't on my agenda for the night, alright? That's not what I wanted."

John's gaze was locked on his as he asked, "Then why did you kiss me back?"

Punk found he had to look away from the intensity of that stare before he could answer. "Because I liked it. It felt good." One of John's hands lightly grabbed his chin and lifted his face back up.

"So if it felt good and you liked it, then why did you leave?"

"Just because something feels good doesn't mean I have to do it. And I already told you that's not what I wanted."

John was confused. He didn't think Punk was one to play games or to lead someone on. But Punk _had_ flirted with him and he _hadn't_ stopped John from kissing him. So why now was he saying he didn't want their kiss? "Really? So I read you wrong after Extreme Rules and in the car that night? You weren't flirting with me?"

Punk was glad the hallway was dark as he felt a blush creep up his neck to his face. He _had_ been flirting with John. But shit, who wouldn't? The man was all bright blue eyes and dimples and muscles. He didn't bother to deny it, just asked instead, "Do you kiss every guy that flirts with you?" Before John could answer he continued. "Because I don't." Punk decided he might as well get it all out. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have flirted with you and I should have stopped the kiss. I'll be honest. I like hanging out with you. You're cool to talk to. But I don't do one night stands and I didn't wanna fuck up a friendship that was just getting started by bringing sex into it. So yeah that's why I took off. I was pissed at you for kissing me and pissed at myself for kissing you back and for flirting with you in the first place when I really wanted to be friends." After that convoluted mouthful, Punk waited to see what John would say.

John looked at Punk. He knew he was telling the truth. Punk didn't lie, if anything the man was brutally honest. So when he said that he liked John and wanted to be friends, John believed him. But he had to admit that he was a little hurt that Punk thought John would use him for a one night stand. John decided that since Punk had been so truthful, he needed to come clean too. "Well here's a little bit of honesty for you, Punk. I'm glad you let me kiss you. I've wanted to do that for a long time. I want you, and not just for a one night stand. I respect us both too much for that. I'll accept your boundaries and take your friendship if that's all I can have from you right now. But..." John leaned in until his lips hovered just a breath above Punk's, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Just know that I'll be waiting for that moment when you finally break and let me kiss you again." John was pleased when Punk's lips parted as though he wanted John to kiss him right then. He leaned in just a bit further so that their lips brushed. "Is that alright with you?" John waited until Punk swallowed and nodded before pushing himself back away from the wall and out of Punk's space. "Good. We'll get Denny's after the show tonight. Bring Kofi. I'll grab Randy and Cody." Then he turned and left the hallway without another word.

Punk stood there for a moment in shock and arousal. He hadn't expected that from John. He'd figured John would spout some stupid Boy Scout shit, Punk would mock him, and they'd be done. What he got was a determined man who turned him on and wouldn't take no for an answer. Punk shook himself and got his head in the game as he heard Johnny Ace's music hit. He'd have to think about this later. He hustled to the front to get ready to go out and interrupt the GM.

Punk stood under the showerhead letting the hot stream of water soak away his aches from his match with Albert err… Tensai and Bryan. He shook his head thinking back to his segment with Laurinaitis. As usual he hadn't needed a script to mock and insult the ruddy faced man, so everything he'd said he'd meant. He hadn't meant to talk about John quite so much, but the man had definitely been on his brain after that almost kiss in the hallway. He finally shut off the water and headed back out to the locker room to get dressed. He saw Kofi sitting on a bench, already dressed and playing a game on his phone.

"Hey man you wanna go grab some food at Denny's?"

Kofi answered without looking up. "Okay."

Punk pulled his shirt over his head. "Cool. We're gonna meet up with Cena, Orton, and Rhodes."

Kofi whipped his head around to look up at Punk, his dreads swirling around his head. "We're meeting up with who?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "You heard me." Kofi's brows scrunched in confusion. "Yeah I heard you, but since when do you make plans to hang out with those three?"

Punk debated for a minute how much to tell Kofi. They traveled together more often than not so eventually he was going to notice that he was hanging around John. But he didn't know how things were going to go between them so he decided not to go into it right then. "Cena's cool," he replied and left it at that. Kofi knew him well enough not to push and Punk was grateful when the dark-skinned man just shrugged and grabbed his bag to follow Punk out of the arena.

Punk sat up in his hotel bed after the last house show for the week. He'd been hanging out with John for the past two weeks after their little talk in the hallway. They were always with other people and John had kept his word on not pushing for anything more than friendship. But Punk hadn't forgotten how John said he'd be waiting for Punk to break and he knew John hadn't either. He thought about all the times he'd look up and find John watching him with that intense blue gaze. Punk would be snared by it every time, no matter where they were or who they were hanging with. But he was always the one to look away first. He just didn't think it was a good idea to get involved with a co-worker. Been there done that more than once and each time it came back to bite him in the ass.

Yet here he sat with his phone in his hand, a text to John up on the screen. All he had to do was touch SEND. But he'd been debating so long that the screen kept going dark. So once again he slid his thumb to unlock it. He looked at the message he'd typed. Can't sleep. About to watch movie. Come over if you're up. RM 324. His thumb hovered over the screen. "Fuck it." Punk hit send.

John lay in his bed halfway sleep. When his phone buzzed with an alert for an incoming text, he threw his arm out to grab it off the night stand. He let his arm drop onto his chest without checking the message. It was probably just Randy asking if he'd made any progress with Punk yet. John wasn't sure if he was making progress with Punk or not. They nearly always sat together in the monitor bay. They hung out after almost every show they were booked on together. Sometimes they went to get something to eat, sometimes they went to a club, and sometimes they watched a movie in someone's hotel room. But it was always with other people, John hadn't been alone with Punk since their talk in the hallway.

John was enjoying the chance to get to know Punk. It was nice hanging out with him. They'd become really good friends. And it was driving John absolutely … fucking … crazy. To be so close to Punk, smelling his wonderful scent, hearing his Chicago accent with its high yet at the same time strangely flat vowels, seeing him relaxed as he talked comics with Kofi and Cody was torture. Several times John had caught himself eyeing Punk's mouth, thinking about their kiss. A dozen times he'd had to snatch his hand back as it hovered at the small of Punk's back as they walked besides one another or away from the back of his neck whenever they sat next to each other. It was hard going against his natural instincts which told him to just take what he wanted, especially since Punk had admitted that he liked their kiss. But he was determined not to screw it up and scare Punk off. So he just kept reminding himself, if he wanted to win Punk he'd have to walk that line between what he wanted to do and what he should do. Thank fuck he had a lot practice playing up the admittedly goofy and easy going side of his personality for the cameras. And through it all Randy was there laughing and making smart-ass comments. John wanted to bash his best friend over the head, clearly he'd forgotten the hell he'd gone through trying to make Cody his as he was having way too much fun at John's expense.

Reminded of Randy he looked down at his phone to see what he'd texted. As the screen glowed to life and he thumbed to his text message screen he shot up in bed. The message was from Punk not Randy! A smile broke over his face as he read Punk's invite to come over and watch a movie. John immediately replied. I'm up. There in five. As John threw on clean clothes and brushed his teeth again he had to remind himself that when Punk said watch a movie, he probably really meant watch a movie. He wasn't one to be coy. If he wanted something else to happen he'd come out and say it in his usual blunt way. And for all he knew, Kofi was there too. But still he wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to spend time with the man who, if John had anything to say about it, was definitely going to be his lover in the very near future. He grabbed his phone and key card and hustled down the hallway to room 324.

Punk opened his hotel room door after he heard the soft yet sure knock. "Hey John." He stepped back to let the bigger man in. "I can't sleep, surprise surprise. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I wasn't asleep yet. So what are we watching?"

"Iron Man II or Thor. He smirked. Gotta get ready for Avengers. You pick." Punk whooped when John thumped Thor with his fist. "I was hoping you'd pick that one." He held up a giant bag of Twizzlers. "Movie snacks."

"You don't have any chocolate?" John asked.

Punk frowned. "You don't like Twizzlers? That's just un-American."

"Shut up. I like Twizzlers just fine. I just like chocolate too."

Punk shrugged. "Well next time we do this I'll get chocolate."

_Next time?_ John thought. He smiled to himself but didn't say anything.

John had never considered himself a masochist, but he was obviously going to have to reevaluate. Because here he sat, late at night, on a bed. With the man he wanted above all others. And he couldn't touch him. Because they were _friends_. They were so close on the bed he could feel Punk's warmth seeping into his side. He had no idea what had taken place in the last twenty minutes of their movie. He was too busy trying to keep the hard-on that wanted to pop up and make its presence known under control. He currently had a parade of hunched-backed old grandmas with droopy tits wearing big giant granny panties marching through his head. He didn't know how much longer that was going to work. As Punk shifted and offered him another Twizzler before biting into one himself, John figured it wasn't going to work for too much longer. And yet here he sat. Yep. He definitely liked to inflict a little self-pain.

As the credits rolled John swung his legs over the side of the bed and spoke in a rush. "Well I guess I'd better get out of here. Thanks for the movie. I'll see you on Monday." John knew that sounded a little abrupt, but if he didn't get off that bed soon he was going to yank Punk underneath him and grind them both into orgasm, promises to wait be damned.

"What if I don't want you to leave yet?"

John's head snapped back around to look at Punk. "I'd want to know why you wanted me to stay."

Punk didn't meet his eyes. "Maybe I think I'm ready for you to kiss me again."

John eased back around on to the bed and grasped Punk's chin forcing him to look him in the eye. "Maybe you'd better be sure of what you want. Because if I kiss you and get my hands on you tonight I am _not_ letting you go. Do you understand?" John waited for Punk's answer, his heart thundering, reminding himself over and over to wait for Punk to decide before he kissed him. He watched as Punk bit his bottom lip sucking his lip ring into his mouth. Finally Punk nodded.

"Yes, John. I want you to kiss me again."

John smiled. "It's about damn time." John leaned over and kissed Punk. The first touch of their lips was a soft greeting. Then John used his thumb to press down on Punk's chin opening his mouth for John's seeking tongue. Again John kept the kiss slow only touching Punk where their lips joined and with the hand he still had on his chin, wanting to hear Punk make that sound again. He didn't have long to wait. As he gently rubbed his tongue along Punk's tasting the sweetness that was made up of a little bit of Twizzlers and a whole lot of Punk, it came. Punk moaned softly as he exhaled, his body melting towards John. John inhaled wanting to take that sound and make it a part of him. He leaned over the smaller man, slowly pushing him down until he was on his back with John on one elbow leaning over him. He repeated his new mantra in his head, what I want to do is not what I should do, before kissing Punk deep their tongues tangling, John's teeth nipping at Punk's beautifully thin bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it slowly.

"I like kissing you Punk. You're not gonna make me wait too long before I get to do it again, are you?" Punk, with a flush riding high on his cheekbones and panting slightly shook his head no. "Good." John trailed soft kisses up Punk's jawline to his ear, wondering if warm, flesh and blood Punk was going to react like his fantasy Punk. He pulled Punk's earlobe between his lips lapping his tongue against the soft skin before catching it between his teeth. Flicking his tongue against it one last time he bit down on the tender flesh. Punk gasped as a shiver went through him, and he reached up and grabbed John's arm trying to pull him closer. _Mmm_… John thought. _Even better than fantasy Punk._ As John eased down Punk's long graceful neck, pausing when he reached his collar bone he pulled Punk up slightly so he could drag his t-shirt up his torso and completely off, throwing it to the side of the bed. His own shirt went the same way. John pressed their chests together, both men groaning at this first touch of bare skin against bare skin.

Punk broke away from their kiss to say, "I don't want to sound like we're about to play a round of 'just the tip' but I'm not ready for more than kissing and touching."

John chuckled at Punk's way of phrasing things. "That's okay baby, I understand. And don't worry, I can still make you feel good. Just trust me."

John stroked his hand down over the nylon of Punk's gym shorts, bypassing his groin area to get to those thighs. He ran his hand up under the material feeling the smooth skin and taut muscles of arguably the prettiest thighs in the WWE. John squeezed his hand around Punk's leg, digging his thumb into the crease where thigh met pelvis as he swept his tongue across one of Punk's nipples. John sucked the hard little nub into his mouth, remembering that Punk's nipples were pierced. He wished that those rings were in right now so that he could tug on them and see just how much Punk could take. He'd have to remember to tell Punk to put them in for him. John lightly dragged his fingertips up and down Punk's thighs at the same time that he bit down hard on Punk's nipple. His beautiful lover cried out as his hips arched up off the bed. John groaned and his cock shot incredibly hard at that response before kissing his way across Punk's chest to his other nipple, giving it the same treatment. He licked, and kissed, and bit down Punk's torso taking note of Punk's reactions to everything he did. Every shudder, every gasp, every moan.

John looked down and saw that Punk was hard, his cock pushing up against the soft material of his shorts. John brought his hand out from under Punk's shorts to rub his palm down that hard shaft. Punk's moan brought John's eyes back to his lover's face.

"John. Please. _Touch me_."

John again stroked him lightly through his shorts. "I am touching you Punk."

Punk's eyes glittered black in the flickering light of the tv as he looked up at John. "Touch _me_. Not …" He broke off gasping as John squeezed his hand around the hard flesh he held.

"Not what?" he prompted when Punk didn't speak again.

"Not through my shorts," he choked out as John continued to rhythmically squeeze his cock.

John leaned down to whisper against Punk's lips. "Are you sure that's what you want?" Punk moaned out a yes and John tugged the nylon shorts down watching as Punk's stiff cock bounced free against his tattooed stomach. As John wrapped his hand around that hot silky flesh, Punk's hips shot up off the bed, pushing his shaft through John's fist. John immediately let him go. John felt the shiver go through Punk's slender frame as he held him down with one hand on his hip.

"What are you… why'd you stop?"

John bit Punk's lip. "I want you to stay still. Understand?" Punk nodded his eyes wide. John smiled to himself. He could sense Punk's surprise at his behavior. He was going to be in for a lot more surprises as this relationship progressed. John grasped Punk's cock again and this time when Punk didn't move he started to stroke. He rubbed his palm across the head spreading the pre-cum through his fingers and using it to aid his pumping. As John caught the light gleaming off Punk's lip ring he leaned down and captured it between his teeth, tugging on it lightly before sucking it into his mouth. He kissed Punk, thrusting his tongue into that sweet mouth as he started to speed up the pace on his stroking. Punk pulled back from him gasping, but John wrapped his hand around the back of Punk's neck and pulled him back. "I didn't say you could stop kissing me." John meshed their lips back together refusing to let Punk break the kiss.

Punk's head was spinning and shivers chased up and down his skin. John's big hand felt so good wrapped so tightly around his erection, but it was killing him not to be able to move his hips like his body demanded. His stomach muscles were clenched tight as he fought to follow John's order. But that kiss! John's fierce kisses were robbing him of his breath and his ability to concentrate on not moving. As John's grips both on his neck and his cock tightened, Punk knew he wasn't going to last for much longer. He tried to speak, to tell John he was about to come, but he couldn't with John's tongue thrusting in his mouth. In desperation he bit John's tongue trying to get him to pull away so he could talk, but John only bit him back. Punk lost it and exploded. His hands flew up to John's back, his fingers digging into the hard muscles. His shout was muffled by John's lips as his cock pulsed, shooting out hot streams of cum all over his stomach and John's hand. Punk's whole body trembled as he strained to keep his hips still in the midst of the best hand job he'd ever had. Finally his orgasm eased up and every one of his muscles relaxed until he just lay there limp. He looked up at John in dazed surprise as the bigger man smiled down at him his dimples popping.

"Is that what you wanted?"

Punk groaned out a laugh. "God yes." Punk rose up on his knees. "But what about what you want?" He pushed John onto his back and pulled John's sweats and boxers down to mid-thigh. Punk licked his lips as he looked down at John. His smooth pale skin stretched tight across the hard muscles of his chest and abs gleamed softly in the muted light of the TV and the moon shining in from outside. Punk sucked his lip ring into his mouth as his eyes dropped to John's erection. It was big and thick, the head broad, the vein underneath strong and throbbing. Punk swallowed as his mouth went dry – he was already starting to regret his stance on not going further than kissing and touching. He looked back up at John and saw he was watching him with his lids partially lowered over those intense blue eyes. Punk drew his finger up John's shaft from root to tip. "Do you want me to return the favor?"

"Fuck yeah," John growled.

Punk slicked his hand in his own cum still on his stomach before fisting John's erection. Squeezing tight he pumped his fist up and down John's cock, pleased when moans started to come from between John's full lips. After what John had just done to him he was glad he could make the bigger man feel good. Punk swung his leg over John so he was straddling his thighs, glad that the shorts still around his thighs were stretchy enough to allow the movement. He continued stroking as he leaned down and pressed kisses against John's throat, licking the scar there before moving down to his chest.

John groaned at the feeling of his cock in Punk's strong hand barely able to believe that he had that sexy lithe body atop his. Deciding he'd probably already surprised Punk enough tonight, he kept his mouth shut. But he couldn't stop his hands from coming up to grasp Punk's ass. His cock started to throb and his balls tightened at the feel of that firm round flesh in his hands. He wanted Punk's mouth again, but before he could ask Punk's lips were on his and his dark haired lover was slowly plunging his tongue into his mouth again and again as he stroked. John knew he wasn't going to last long after being hard all night and watching Punk reach his pleasure. John moaned and let himself go, his orgasm boiling up his shaft in the sweet release that'd he'd been craving for weeks. Punk kept pumping him until every last drop was wrung from his body and he sighed one last time.

John wrapped his arms around Punk's slender frame and pulled him down tight against him. Punk was going to be his. And they were off to a good start.

TBC

A/N Umm… yeah. I hope that wasn't too smutty. I was listening to Loveage "Stroker Ace" on repeat for inspiration and this is the result. Reviews, constructive criticisms, and suggestions are welcome! Thanks for reading and more to come soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Nope. Still don't own anything or know anyone from the WWE. Although my new RKO shirt should be arriving any day now. So WWE, please don't sue me for posting my make-believe story of my fictional versions of John Cena and CM Punk.

**Warning**: m/m slash, smut, and language.

**A/N**: Thank you again for the reviews! And the consensus was that the last chapter was NOT to smutty (those comments had me cracking up!) so you'll get a bit more this chapter. Also, I apologize for formatting weirdness I keep trying to insert line breaks but they never save. *shrug* Enjoy!

Punk was in a local Raliegh gym working out. Well he was supposed to be working out. He was mostly just sitting there staring into space, the weights forgotten in his hands, as he thought about last night with John. His encounter with John had been … different than he expected. Once Punk had mentioned that he wanted John to stay after the movie, his whole demeanor had seemed to change. His normal happy-go-lucky persona had seemed to fade as he topped Punk. And Punk didn't have a problem being topped, he'd bottomed a couple of times before. But with John there was something deeper … darker behind his eyes. Punk was curious, he'd been aroused as fuck when John told him to keep still while he stroked him off. He wondered what else was John capable of?

Kofi plopped down on the weight bench next to him. "What's up man? We've been in here almost an hour and you've barely done ten reps."

Punk shrugged and set the weight down. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About John?" Kofi asked.

Punk hedged, "What makes you say that?"

Kofi laughed. "C'mon, man! All of a sudden we've been hanging out with him, Orton, and Rhodes? Where'd that friendship come from? The only thing I can think is you're interested in one of them. And I know it's not Rhodes or Orton. Not even you have enough of a death wish to get between those two. Plus, I see how John looks at you."

Punk had to laugh. Clearly he and John hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought. Kofi was married, but he accepted and was cool with Punk's bisexuality, so he figured he might as well sound off on what he was thinking. "I asked John to come over last night."

"Finally! So does that mean we don't have to go on anymore awkward group dates?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "Shut up, man. Do you want to hear this or not?"

Kofi mimed zipping his lips.

"Without going into too much gay-lovin' detail, John was different."

"Different how? He got something abnormal under those jorts?"

Punk had to laugh. _Those fucking jorts._ "Not different physically. Personality wise."

Kofi immediately frowned. "He wasn't an asshole to you was he?"

Punk looked at Kofi. "Down Mama Bear. He wasn't an asshole, just more … I don't know. Intense. But thank you for getting ready to defend my honor," he teased.

Kofi dropped down into a handstand as Punk watched. He wasn't surprised. Kofi couldn't sit still for more than a minute. He spoke from his upside down position. "So he was intense. _You're_ intense. As long as it didn't bother you and you liked it, I say roll with it."

Punk had to admit Kofi was right. He _had_ liked it. He'd never come so hard from just a hand-job in his life. And so what if John was different behind closed doors. Weren't most people? "You give such good boyfriend advice Kofina. You're the best BFF ever."

Kofi flipped up out of his handstand and shot Punk a glare. "Watch it."

Punk just laughed.

Punk was at ringside watching Kofi and Truth practice against Dolph and Jack for Over the Limit that night. He sat with the two men he was starting to form an unlikely friendship with. Well actually it wasn't so unlikely with Cody. They had shared a love for comics and had a lot of the same favorites. But he and Randy had never been on more than the briefest of speaking terms. Yet as he'd hung around him the last couple of weeks, he'd found himself laughing at Randy's teasing and mocking of anything and everything. He'd especially been amused at some of the comments he'd overheard Randy make to John about his pursuit of Punk. One in particular made him laugh_. Just put a collar on him and be done with it._ Punk chuckled again thinking of it. What was he, a puppy? His phone buzzed and he thumbed his phone open to see a message from John.

Pulling up 2 arena. Where u at?

After he sent his location John immediately texted back.

K. B right there.

Punk had to smile at how pleased it made him that John wanted to see him first as soon as he showed up. Although his text message grammar needed serious correcting.

John walked down to the ring area and headed straight for Punk. Punk's eyes widened as John wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him up out of his seat straight into a kiss. Punk opened up as John's tongue stroked his lips and let John in. Their tongues tangled together and Punk moaned as John sucked on his lip ring. John pulled back slightly and smiled at Punk, his dimples flashing and baby blues sparkling. "Hi." Punk shook his head but had to smile back. "Hi." They both looked over at Randy as they heard his deep voice ring out.

"Hallefuckinglujah! Does this mean we're done with those fuckin' junior high group dates?"

Kofi burst out laughing and Punk felt his face get hot. Hell no he was not blushing! John gave him another quick kiss before he answered Randy.

"Yeah, we don't need you losers anymore." They settled in and John dropped his arm from around Punk as more of the roster came in to go over their matches. Punk was more than ready to go all out with Bryan tonight, but he couldn't resist teasing John. "You poor thing. All you get to do is tussle around with Johnny Ace. I wouldn't even bother to practice that." He laughed as John just glared at him in frustration.

Ironically the next week they were out in a group again, but this time it was with the majority of the roster. Randy was being suspended for 60 days for failing his Wellness Exam so they were giving him a send-off. As a straight edge Punk couldn't condone Randy's actions – whatever they were – but he thought the whole Wellness Program was bullshit. If the WWE actually tested everyone regularly _and_ enforced their findings probably the majority of the roster would be suspended. Well except for him obviously. He looked over at the man seated next to him. And maybe John. He'd been very open about his stance on steroids.

He looked across the table at Cody and saw how upset he was. He felt bad for the younger man. As much as everyone joked about their symbiotic relationship, he'd seen that the two men really cared for each other. Randy was constantly touching Cody, pulling on the pendant the dark-haired man always wore around his neck, or checking to see if he needed anything. And Cody seemed to love the attention, his eyes always searching for the tall man whenever they were apart. As he watched Randy leaned over and whispered something in Cody's ear which seemed to cheer him up slightly.

Punk gave his attention back to John who was telling the others at their table a crazy fan story. Punk decided to have a little fun with him. He scooted his foot closer to John's under the table and slowly rubbed his bare leg against John's. John abruptly stopped talking and went still. Punk was actually grateful John was in his jorts. This wouldn't be nearly as much fun if he was in pants.

Ryder looked at John confused. "Dude, are you gonna finish your sentence or what?"

John shook his head and got back to his story. Punk waited a minute then leaned back casually in the booth, dropping his hand down onto the seat. He walked his fingers slowly up John's muscular thigh stopping just shy of his groin. Punk rubbed his fingers lightly back and forth occasionally brushing his grazing over the growing bulge in John's shorts. John stopped talking again.

This time Ryder looked concerned. "Are you alright, bro?"

Punk kept his hand right where it was, massaging John's thigh. He looked up at John with his eyes wide. "Yeah, John what's wrong?" He took a drink of his Pepsi, hollowing his cheeks as he sipped through the straw. John's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

Randy and Cody burst out laughing and John's gaze shot over to glare at them. "Nothing I'm fine. Just lost my train of thought."

Randy smirked. "I bet you did." Randy got up pulling Cody with him. We're gonna get another round of drinks.

Punk gave John's thick thigh one last squeeze and got up too. "I don't trust you two to get Pepsi and not that other soda. I'll come with you."

As they started to walk off Randy looked back at John. "Oh man John I didn't mean to be rude. Did you want to come too?"

John spoke through gritted teeth. "Not right now."

Randy laughed and Punk smirked. They both knew why John couldn't get up. That was fun.

Punk stood with Randy and Cody at the hotel bar waiting on their drinks. Cody was still laughing.

"That was funny Punk. But you're gonna be in trouble tonight! Don't be surprised if you get a spa-."

Randy spoke up over Cody. "John spends so much time pranking everybody else. It's about time he got a taste of his own medicine."

Punk saw Randy's hand come up and squeeze the back of Cody's neck as he looked down at him with a stern look. Cody dropped his eyes.

_The hell?_ But before Punk could try and figure out what that was all about he heard John's voice.

"Ha, ha, ha assholes."

As John walked up to the trio he rubbed his hand on the small of Punk's back briefly before dropping his hand. "Not you, Punk. Just these two."

"What the fuck? How are we the only assholes when Punk's the one that started that whole thing?"

"I like Punk more than you two so he can get away with a lot more," John drawled.

Randy rolled his eyes laughing. "Whatever." Then he sobered. "Look after my boy while I'm gone," he said to John.

John immediately agreed. He understood how hard it would be for Randy to be separated from his sub. "Of course." He clasped Randy's hand tight and pulled him in for a quick one-armed hug. Then he pushed Randy back before punching lightly Cody on the arm. "I'll make sure the little shit doesn't get into too much trouble."

"Hey!" Cody protested. "I can hear you."

John laughed and reached over to touch Punk pulling him in closer before dropping his hand again. He hated that he couldn't touch him like he wanted in public. "Are you guys staying much longer?"

Randy looked down at Cody who was starting to look sad again. "Just for one more drink."

"Well Punk and I are gonna head up."

Punk's eyebrows went up. "We are?" John gave him a look that looked nearly identical to the one Randy had given Cody earlier.

"Yes. We are."

"Fine," Punk found himself agreeing.

John gave him a small smile and slapped his hand on his shoulder herding him over to the elevator bank.

Randy called out, "Don't you want your Pepsi, Punk?"

"You drink it, fucker," he shouted back over his shoulder. John laughed and they stepped into the elevator.

Once they were in John's room John pushed Punk up against the door and plunged his tongue into his mouth. Fuck, he wanted to punish Punk so bad for teasing him like that his fingers were tingling. But he couldn't. Not yet. So he settled for kissing him furiously, barely giving his lover a chance to breath. He clenched his fists against the door on either side of Punk's head to restrain himself from spanking that tight round butt. He finally pulled back and looked at Punk. His lips were wet and swollen and he opened his eyes slowly to look at John.

"You're a really good kisser, John."

John chuckled as he stripped Punk's shirt up over his head. "You think so?"

"Yep."

John leaned back in and kissed Punk slowly this time. He stroked his tongue in and out like he was fucking Punk's mouth. Then he sucked at that lip ring that always seemed to be begging for John's attention as he ran his hand down Punk's belly into his shorts. He grasped Punk's shaft feeling him already semi-erect. He pulled his lips away from Punk's as he started to pump and Punk was hard in his hand in seconds. John squeezed before rubbing his thumb over the head that was already slick and hot. Punk's head slammed back against the door.

"And you definitely deserve a blue ribbon for best hand jobs."

John pushed Punk's shorts down and Punk toed off his sneakers. "Where would you find a ribbon for that?"

"I don't know," Punk answered breathing hard. "But I'll make you one myself if you just keep doing that."

John slowed his strokes on Punk's cock. "Keep doing this?"

"Yes, but do it faster," Punk ground out between clenched teeth.

He brought his hand down to wrap around John's fist trying to urge him on faster. But John grabbed it and pressed it back against the door. He looked his lover in the eyes. "Baby, you are going to learn not to do that." He stroked Punk quickly several times and as soon as he started gasping his hips rolling, John let him go.

Punk groaned. "Jesus, John! You can't keep doing that to me."

John smiled but he didn't say anything. He just picked Punk up with one arm around his slender waist and headed over to the foot of the bed.

"Oh, John! You're _sooo_ strong." Punk mocked in a girly falsetto.

"I could always AA your ass onto the bed."

Punk scoffed. "You wouldn't dare." John stopped and started to shift around Punk to get him into position over his shoulders. Punk stopped him before he could lift him up.

"Okay, I'm sorry! I was just teasing."

John laid Punk down on the bed. God he was beautiful. His colorful tattoos stood out against skin that was naturally tan from running outside in the sun. His body was long, lean, and lightly muscled. And fuck, those thighs! So smooth and round. They hadn't gone further than pleasuring each other with their hands and mouths yet, but John was already addicted to having them wrapped around him. Punk nudged him with his foot.

"Am I gonna lay here naked all by my lonesome?"

John stripped off his own clothes and then eased one knee onto the bed. "I was just admiring your pretty thighs."

Punk laughed. "My what?"

John ran his hand up Punk's leg. "You heard me. Every time you get down into that 'It's Clobberin' Time' pose with your legs spread wide I want to lick my way up these."

Punk drew one of his knees up his olive green eyes focused on John, passing swirling in their depths. "Well they're here now."

John came the rest of the way up on the bed. "That they are." He smoothed his hand down Punk's raised leg, pressing slightly to open him up even further. Leaning down he licked a long wet trail up the inside of Punk's thigh from knee to groin. He heard Punk's breath catch as he swiped his tongue across Punk's tight sac before he continued on to the other leg. He sucked the warm skin into his mouth lightly, wishing he could leave his mark on Punk's skin. He paid each thigh lots of attention, kneading the smooth flesh, kissing and sucking his way from thigh to thigh and lapping at Punk's sac each time until Punk's legs were scissoring on the bed, his hips swiveling. When he moaned John's name, John licked one long stripe up Punk's hard cock before responding. "Yeah, baby?"

One of Punk's hands came down to rest on the back of John's head. "Suck me, please?"

John shook Punk's hand from his head and surged up his body until they were face to face, groin to groin. "Hmmm… you did ask so nicely." He grasped both Punk's wrists in his fist and stretched his arms up above his head to the headboard. John looked down and the sight of his big pale hand restraining Punk's smaller and heavily tattooed wrists made his mouth go dry. A picture flashed in his head of those same wrists in a set of leather cuffs and John groaned. When he spoke his voice was low and rough with desire. "Don't move your hands from this spot and I'll give you what you want." John thrust his pelvis against Punk's rubbing their cocks together. Punk moaned and his fingers twitched. John squeezed his hand around Punk's wrists in warning. As he looked at his lover John thought he might have seen a flash of excitement in his green eyes before he closed them.

John slowly released Punk and braced his hand on the bed. He ground his hips against Punk's again, loving the feel of their hard cocks sliding together. John moved back down Punk's body, stopping to lick at Punk's nipples. He spoke against his skin. "Next time we're together like this I want you to have your nipple rings in." Punk nodded but that wasn't enough for John. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth. "I didn't hear you."

Punk gasped. "Yes! I will."

John gave an appreciative murmur before continuing his path down to Punk's cock. John flattened his tongue and licked across the head of Punk's shaft tasting the salty pre-cum that had already beaded on the slit. "You taste so good, Punk." He blew a warm breath across where he'd just licked before sucking that hot hard cock into his mouth. John started to bob up and down, sucking slowly. He tongued the sensitive underside watching as Punk's back arched off the bed in his pleasure. John brought his hand between Punk's legs, cupping and squeezing his balls before lightly running one finger up and down the tender skin just behind them. "Fuck!" Punk cried out.

John looked up his lover's body again and saw that even though he was straining and gasping he hadn't moved his hands from where John placed them. Punk was doing so good following the orders John gave him when they were together like this as he eased him oh so slowly into being his sub.

Punk felt as if his whole body was on fire as he submitted to the pleasure John gave him with his mouth. John's mouth was so hot and wet around him as he sucked him with the most exquisite suction that Punk could barely stand it. When John lightly dragged his teeth up the underside of his cock Punk almost reached down to touch his lover but managed to hold himself back at the last second. But he couldn't stop the words that burst forth from his mouth. "John, please. I want to taste you too."

John kept sucking but he scooped his hand under Punk's hip, pulling until Punk caught on and turned onto his side. Then he moved his big body around until his cock was lined up with Punk's mouth. He pulled his mouth off of Punk long enough to tell Punk he could move his hands. Punk didn't hesitate. He reached out to hold John's shaft steady and sucked him down. Punk's brain fogged over until he was aware of nothing but the feel of John hard and strong in his mouth, the feel of John's tongue sliding across his own cock, and the wet sounds and moans coming from the both of them. As John started to move on him faster, Punk felt the tingling in his shaft and the tightening in his belly that signaled he was about to come. Then without warning he felt John's finger probing at his entrance pushing inside slowly. Punk's hips started to pump and he tore his mouth from John's cock, moaning as his orgasm poured from him straight into the hot wet mouth of his lover. Punk was lost in the pleasure coursing through him. As he came down he felt John smack him sharply on the ass, reminding him that he was neglecting his generous partner.

Punk rose up on his knees and pushed John over onto his back. Then he leaned down and took John back into his mouth. John's hand came down to grasp the back of his head, guiding him. "That's it baby, suck me." Punk crowded in tight against John's body moaning. "I like that. Do it again." Punk moaned again longer this time. He looked up and saw John propped up on one elbow watching him. Punk was unable to look away from those sharp blue eyes. Their gazes remained locked as John's fingers clenched tight on his head and his hips started to fuck upwards. Goosebumps chased across Punk's skin as John spoke in a low voice. "Relax. Let me fuck your mouth." Punk did as John asked without thought. John's thrusts became more forceful and he kept talking to Punk in that low voice. "Take it baby. You're doing so good. Take it all. You've got me so hard in that hot little mouth." Punk moaned again, his fingers tingled, and his stomach fluttered. He was getting insanely turned on by the way John was talking to him and holding him in place. "I'm about to come in your mouth, Punk. You gonna drink it all down for me?" Punk squirmed, hard again and already at the edge of orgasm. John smiled. "You want to come again don't you, baby?" Punk nodded swiftly not caring if he looked desperate. "Touch yourself." Punk reached down and grabbed his cock, pumping in time with John's thrusts. It wasn't long before Punk's belly clenched and his balls drew up tight against his body. He started to come at the same time he felt John's release flooding over his tongue. Punk tried not to choke, his concentration split between his own orgasm and swallowing down John's. Through it all he and John maintained their eye contact. Finally they both shuddered one last time.

Punk released John and lay his head on his lover's flat stomach trying to catch his breath. John scooted around to the top of the bed dragging Punk with him. They kissed and caressed each other lightly as they relaxed. Punk laughed softly and teased the big man holding him. "You've got such a dirty mouth John. I wouldn't have ever thought that from your goofy promos."

John tensed. "Does that bother you?"

"No. I like it."

John pulled Punk in for a quick kiss. But then Punk opened his lips and John swept his tongue inside savoring the taste of himself inside his lover's mouth. When John pulled back they were both breathing hard. Then Punk groaned.

"I'd better go so I don't fall asleep and then get caught leaving your room in the morning."

John's hand tightened where he held Punk's hip. He _wanted_ Punk to sleep with him. He didn't like it that Punk still went back either to his own room or a room he was sharing with Kofi after their nights together. He wasn't going to allow it for much longer, but for now he let him go. John pulled the covers over himself as Punk got dressed. When Punk walked back over to the bed to say goodbye John grabbed his hand and pulled him down for a kiss. "Goodnight, Punk." His dark haired lover laughed as he straightened.

"I think you've long since earned the right to call me Phil."

John tugged him back down and gave him a much longer and deeper kiss. "Goodnight, Phil," he whispered against his lips. Punk swallowed and John could see in his green eyes that he wanted to stay. John released him so he wouldn't be tempted to pull Phil back into the bed with him. Punk told him goodnight and with one last look left the room.

John strained, ignoring the sweat that ran down into his eyes as he pressed up the weights in his hand over his head again and again. He'd long since passed the number of reps he usually did. But he kept going, trying to burn off the sexual frustration that was building and building each day. He laughed ruefully to himself at the thought that he was sexually frustrated when nearly every night he released onto Punk's belly, or in his hand, or fuck, into his sweet mouth. But he still hadn't told Punk that he was a Dom. Which meant that he hadn't restrained Punk the way he wanted to. He hadn't controlled Punk, withholding his lover's release until _he_ was ready for him to come. He hadn't slapped his hand or one of his toys across Punk's ass to punish him for the way Punk often teased him. But he wanted to so fucking bad. He just wasn't sure how Punk would react to John asking him to be his sub. Yeah, Punk liked it when John talked dirty to him and John had noticed that look in Punk's eyes when he held his arms down. But that alone didn't make him a submissive. And now that John had had a taste of Phil he didn't think he'd be able to take it if Punk wanted no part of John's BDSM world and took off. So here he was, so frustrated he was ready to explode, pumping iron like crazy trying to ease the tension. He stopped when he heard somebody calling his name.

"Damn, John! Pay attention."

John sat up and looked at Cody. Shit, he'd forgotten they were working out together. He wiped the sweat out of his eyes before reaching out for the phone Cody held out to him.

"It's Randy."

John rolled his eyes. Who else? "Hey, Randy what's up?" Randy's deep voice came across the line.

"Doing my physical therapy. Bored as shit. Any of those meatheads sniffing around my boy?"

John laughed. "No. You haven't been gone long enough for them to stop fearing the wrath of the Viper. But you know Cody can take care of himself, right?"

"Yeah but he shouldn't have to. That's my job. And don't tell me you wouldn't feel the same if you were stuck away from Punk."

John didn't say anything. The thought of not being with his beautiful sarcastic lover, or worse yet someone else trying to touch what was his, had him clenching his fist tight on Cody's phone.

"Exactly," Randy laughed. "Anyway I'm flying up to see Cody tonight. Bring Punk and come have a drink with us."

John agreed and handed the phone back to Cody. He watched as the younger man blushed at whatever Randy said before ending the call.

After the show the four of them sat at a fairly secluded table in a laid-back bar close to the hotel they were staying at. The conversation flowed easily between them as they caught Randy up on what had been going on in his absence. John took a sip of his soda. He knew Punk didn't mind if he drank, but he didn't like to do it too much around his straight edge lover. He sat his empty glass down and saw Randy watching him with a questioning expression. Shit, his best friend was too perceptive. He wasn't surprised when Randy asked Cody to go and get him another drink eyeballing him a silent message as he did so. Cody smiled at Punk.

"Come with me. I'm just gonna get a round for everyone and I can't carry four drinks by myself." Punk shrugged and slid out of the booth to follow Cody to the bar.

"Why are you so tense? I thought things were going alright with you and Punk?"

John rolled his shoulders. "I'm not tense."

Randy laughed. "Cut the crap John. If I tapped you with a hammer you'd shatter. What the fuck is up?"

John blew out a breath and clenched his fingers around his empty glass. "I haven't told Punk that I'm a Dom yet. We've been pretty vanilla so far."

Randy's eyes widened. "Holy shit, man. No wonder you're worked up so tight. How in the hell are you holding that back?"

John laughed with very little humor. "Believe me it has not been easy."

Randy shook his head. "John you can't keep that from Punk for much longer. He needs to know and you look like you're about to explode."

John didn't respond, and Randy spoke again.

"Besides, don't you want to collar him?"

John sucked in a breath at that. It was the one thing he hadn't let himself think of. Punk, with John's collar around his long slender neck. Fuck, he wanted to see that sign of his ownership around his lover. But he wasn't going to get to do so if he didn't come clean with Phil. That made up his mind right then and there. Randy must have seen the look of determination cross his face because he laughed.

"That's what I thought."

Cody and Punk came back to their table and put their drinks on the table. John looked at Punk. "We're leaving." Punk gestured at the sodas he'd just set down.

"We just got these!"

John stood up and let a bit of his dominance slip into his voice. "I said we're going. Now." Punk's eyes widened but he nodded. And he immediately backed up so that John could leave the table. They said a quick round of goodbyes to Randy and Cody and left the bar.

In John's hotel room walked Punk backwards until he sat on the bed with John standing over him. "There's something I haven't told you. I like to be in control in my relationships." Punk's brow creased in confusion.

"So you like to top. I think I've proved I'm okay with that."

John reached out to wrap his hand around Punk's neck tilting his head back. "Not just top, baby. I'm a Dominant. Which means if we're going to be together you'll be my submissive." A look of comprehension flash across Punk's face. His hand came up to rest against John's chest. "I didn't tell you that you could touch me." He watched, incredibly pleased as Punk licked his lips and dropped his hand down to his lap. He tightened his fingers around Punk's throat. "Do you think you can handle that? Giving up your control to me?" Punk swallowed.

"Show me."

TBC

**A/N**: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think. I'm especially curious to get your opinions on how it played out with John's secret. I know you guys knew what it was but should I have teased it out longer for Punk? Or should Punk have caught on sooner? Anyhoo. Next chapter should be up soon. Thanks again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: This is not a true story of John Cena and CM Punk. I am not affiliated with the WWE. I am making no money from this story. But wouldn't it be cool if all of the above were true? =)

**Disclaimer #2**: This is also not trying to show a real BDSM relationship. It's just my mind's version of things. Please forgive me if I make big giant mistakes about what it's really like to be a Dom or a sub.

**A/N**: m/m slash, gay sex, bondage, cursing. I almost scrapped this whole thing and started over. I'm not sure if it went where I wanted it to go – still I hope you enjoy it. But RAW last night was awesome! Can't wait till next week when Punk and Cena are in the ring together again. Woot! And oh yeah, sometimes when I get stuck I like to watch this Punkena slash video by StraightEdgedChaos. Check it out! watch?v=XUAZVxRtjYw&list=FLqZ3Snn3EpfcFExxhqCeMPA&index=5&feature=plpp_video

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Punk felt incredibly vulnerable with John's hand wrapped around his throat but he didn't try to move it. His lover had just confessed to being a Dom and the moment he did so many things clicked in Punk's head that he couldn't even be shocked at John's revelation. Punk _was_ surprised at how quickly he'd told John to show him. But looking at the triumphant expression on John's face – he was glad that he had. John drew him up by the hand he still had around his neck and pulled him in until their chests brushed together.

"Before we go any further, I need to know how far you want to go tonight. We haven't had sex yet and I don't want your decision influenced by anything that happens."

Punk looked into John's blue eyes. He knew that John would wait if that's what he wanted. But Punk didn't want to wait any longer. "I want everything, John." At his response, his lover lowered his lips to his and kissed him, his tongue stroking against Punk's over and over again. When John finally pulled back and dropped his hand from around his throat Punk was breathless.

"Strip," John commanded.

A chill chased across Punk's skin at that deep voice, and he immediately went to pull his shirt over his head. As he continued to undress he couldn't help but think of the other times he'd automatically done what John told him, especially when he used that voice. Had he subconsciously been submitting to John all along? When he was done undressing John spoke again.

"Kneel. Head bowed, hands on your knees, palms up."

Punk complied dropping slowly down to kneel at John's feet. Punk waited for the burn of humiliation but all he felt was curiosity to see what John would do next … and a strange feeling that this is where he was supposed to be.

John stroked his finger down Punk's cheek. His dark haired lover looked so beautiful naked and in a pose of submission. All the tension John had from holding back with Punk was gone. Now his blood raced with anticipation for what would happen between them tonight. "You know what safe words are?" Punk nodded without looking up. "Good. Choose one." Punk gave one and John's lips twitched at Punk's choice. Even now he still managed to be a smart ass. He stepped away to get a few things he needed from his bag and laid them on the bed out of Punk's vision. The condom and lube he tossed carelessly on the nightstand. He circled back around to stand in front of Punk. "Undress me." Punk's hands reached for John's belt but then he hesitated and after a moment looked up at him.

Punk froze for a second. Was he really going to do this? Could he really submit to John? Did he _want_ to submit to John? He looked up and met John's stare. John just looked back at him calmly. Punk knew that John wouldn't force him. It would have to be his decision. _He_ would have to let go and accept John's control. Punk released the breath he'd been holding and unbuckled John's belt. After that first step it was suddenly easier. Punk opened John's jeans and pulled them down his muscular legs along with his boxers. He untied John's tennis shoes and pulled shoes, pants, and underwear completely off as John helped him by balancing on one foot at a time. Looking up he saw John's erection tenting against the t-shirt he still wore. He wanted to touch it but instinctively knew that wasn't allowed. So instead he asked, "Can I stand up to take off your shirt?" John nodded and Punk stood, amazed that he was already turned on at servicing John like this. He grasped the hem of John's shirt and raised it up with John bending down so he could pull the shirt towards him and off. Punk dropped the shirt on the floor, admiring John's strong body as he waited for his next move.

John's hand came up and again grasped Punk's neck. That long beautiful neck that John couldn't wait to put his collar around. The thought that he was actually going to be able to collar Punk sent a hot wave of arousal and possessiveness streaking through him. He pulled Punk into a rough kiss, forcing his mouth open and plunging his tongue inside. He sucked on Punk's tongue drawing a moan from his lover. When he stopped Punk was breathing just as hard as he was, his eyes closed and head slightly tilted back to accommodate John's hand around his throat. John's heart thumped looking at him. He just knew that Punk was going to be the perfect submissive for him.

He walked Punk backwards until Punk came up against the bed and released him. "Lay down with your arms up over your head." While Punk did as he commanded, John picked up the items he'd retrieved from his bag earlier. The scarves he kept in his hand – the other two items he slid under the pillow, still out of Punk's eyesight. John climbed up on the bed and lay down next to Punk, propping himself up on one elbow. "You're going to be restrained tonight." He held up the scarves for him to see. Thankful that the bed had a mission-style headboard, he tied a scarf around each of Punk's tattooed wrists before knotting the other ends around the headboards slats. John would have rather used cuffs, but getting them through airport security was a headache he didn't need. He watched as Punk tugged slightly on the scarves and again saw that flash of excitement in his eyes. Hmm… it looked like restraints were going to be a favorite kink for the both of them.

John leaned down and whispered, "You're going to be mine, Phil," before lightly kissing him on the lips. John moved to Punk's ear, curling his tongue around the sensitive skin with teasing licks. He repeated his actions on Punk's other ear and felt a slight shiver run through the smaller man. John trailed light sucking kisses down Punk's neck nipping at the soft skin. He was so happy that their first time together he wouldn't have to hold back that he had to force himself to go slowly. He moved down to Punk's decorated chest. Punk had put his nipple rings in like he'd told him to and John had been eager to get his mouth on the silver jewelry ever since Punk had removed his shirt. He flicked his tongue against one before pulling the nipple and ring into his mouth and sucking hard. Punk moaned and John briefly sucked harder before releasing him. He blew on the hardened nub and then quickly sucked the other into his mouth, pulling on the ring with his teeth. Punk moaned again, starting to move restlessly on the bed. John slowly brought his teeth together with the nipple between them. He saw Punk's body go still in anticipation. He held it there for a moment before he bit down, drawing a soft cry from Punk. John let Punk's flesh go with a wet sucking pop and looked down. Punk's nipples stood up in hard little nubs, glistening wet from John's mouth, the silver rings flashing with every deep breath Punk took. John could have played there for hours but there was so much more he wanted to do to Punk tonight. Scooting down the bed slightly he rubbed his face against Punk's belly inhaling deeply. "You smell so good, Phil. I always know when you're near me just by your scent."

Punk's hands twitched in their restraints. He wanted to touch John so bad and not being able to was its own form of torture. John's lips brushed over the thin sensitive skin of his hips before biting down sharply. Punk cried out, his hands involuntarily yanking on the scarves that held him. He tried to calm down but then John licked across his groin, coming close to but not quite touching Punk's cock as he moved down to suck on Punk's inner thighs. He drew one knee up, his hips rising to get closer to what he wanted. John slapped him on the thigh and Punk gasped out John's name.

John moved back up Punk's body and bit him on the lip. "Sir." Punk gave him a questioning look. "You will refer to me as Sir." Punk nodded and John bit him again. This time Punk responded correctly, "Yes, Sir," his eyes wide and the pupils so dilated with arousal only the smallest ring of hazel-green surrounded them. John smiled down at his lover. "Since you interrupted me I'll have to start over." John laughed to himself as Punk closed his eyes and groaned. John repeated his teasing journey down Punk's body. This time he dragged his tongue across Punk's smoothly shaved balls, but still didn't touch his hard shaft. He wanted to push Punk as close to orgasm as he could and then hold him there until _he_ decided his lover could have his release.

He shifted to lay between Punk's thighs. Pushing Punk's legs apart John flicked his tongue against his puckered hole. Punk drew in a sharp breath and a tremor ran through him. But that wasn't enough of a response for John. He pushed his tongue into Punk, loving the way the tight muscles there gripped his tongue. As he gently thrust his tongue in and out, beginning the stretch for what was to come, he heard Punk pulling at his restraints and his hips started to move in time with John's tongue. John allowed it, wanting to see all of Punk's reactions. He brought his hand to Punk's mouth and brushed two fingers over his lips. Punk immediately sucked them in getting them nice and wet. When he went to pull them out Punk resisted and John quickly bit him hard on the thigh. Punk's mouth opened as he exclaimed, "Fuck!" John laughed and slowly started to push his freed fingers into Punk's tight channel. God, Punk was so tight! He twisted them back and forth, working to stretch Punk even more before crooking them up to search for Punk's sensitive bundle of nerves. He knew he'd found it when Punk's hips jacked up off the bed, his head thrashing back and forth.

"Is that your spot, baby? Does that feel good?"

"Yes … Yes, Sir." Punk moaned.

John decided to give his new sub a reward for remembering to address him correctly. He grasped Punk's cock with his free hand and sucked him down. Punk's thrashing increased, moans and curse words falling over each other as John continued to suck. He swallowed down as much as he could, tonguing the underside of Punk's cock, lapping the slit to draw forth his salty precum. When he felt Punk beginning to shake, his cock pulsing in John's mouth, John stopped. He removed his mouth and his fingers from his lover, watching as Punk writhed and begged. John dug his thumb into the crease between thigh and pelvis. "Settle down. Now." He watched with approval as Punk struggled to bring himself under control. His fists clamped around the scarves and his stomach sucked in tight, the occasional moan escaping from his tightly closed lips. "Open your eyes and look at me." John smiled at the dazed and aroused expression in Punk's eyes as he obeyed. "You are not allowed to come until I say that you can. Do you understand?" Punk started to nod but at John's warning look he relaxed his mouth enough to grit out, "Yes, Sir."

John reached under the pillow for one of his toys. It was a vibrator, just the right size to stretch his lover without hurting him. He held it up to Punk's mouth. "Get it wet," he ordered. Punk's tongue came out and licked at the slender vibrator before he took it into his mouth. John's cock twitched as he imagined those lips wrapped around him instead. He removed the vibrator from Punk's mouth and teased it against his ass. John slowly pushed the vibrator into Punk, giving him time to adjust before fucking him slowly with it. Punk started to move again, his hips rolling, and John picked up the pace. A beautiful sheen of sweat broke out on Punk's tan skin. He leaned down and sucked at Punk's neck, getting the taste of that sweat on his tongue. John pressed the vibrator up and held it steady against Punk's spot. Then he sucked Punk's shaft back into his mouth at the same time he flicked on the vibrator. Punk screamed.

Punk was in so much ecstasy he couldn't even think straight. John had him so aroused he had no control over his own body. He trembled and gasped, hips thrusting jerkily. The combination of that vibrator tickling his spot while John slid his wet mouth up and down his cock had his orgasm so close that his vision blurred and his fingers tingled. He didn't think he was going to be able to hold on much longer and he managed to gasp out a warning. John stopped everything and told him "Not yet." He groaned when he felt John's hand sliding down his shaft. Suddenly his impending orgasm seemed to be restrained yet magnified all at the same time. He looked down and saw that John had put a cock ring on him. Sweet Jesus what had he gotten himself into? John turned the vibrator back on. As the pleasure started to tingle through him again, Punk bit his lip wondering stupidly if it was possible to die from something feeling too good.

Suddenly John's lips were on his, demanding that Punk kiss him or he'd stop again. Punk started to kiss his Dom – he had no problem calling him that 'cause _Fuck_ _yes_ he was being dominated – frantically and John turned up the speed on the vibrator. Punk whimpered as he continued to kiss John, not even sure if he was breathing anymore. John finally released his mouth and turned off the vibrator. Punk dragged in deep breaths. He didn't know that tears were leaking from his closed eyes until he felt John's rough tongue licking them from his face. He wanted to beg John to take him but all he could manage to do was moan, "please," over and over.

John pulled the vibrator from Punk's ass. Throwing it aside he fit their hips together, rubbing their cocks against each other slowly. Punk's begging and moaning had him incredibly hard. "Tell me what you want, baby." Punk's eyes remained closed as he managed to gasp out. "I want you inside me." John kept thrusting. "Is that right?" Punk nodded, his face tight with tension. "Then look at me and ask me properly," he commanded.

Punk opened his eyes, feeling as though it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He stared up into John's blue gaze barely able to comprehend that this dominant man lurked beneath the smiling friendly face the world saw every day. Remembering what John had ordered, Punk searched for the right words that would put an end to this sexual torture. "John – Sir. I want you inside me. If that's … if that's what pleases you." John smiled down at him slow and wicked. "Good boy." Punk felt a funny tingling lift in his stomach. Why did those two simple words make him feel so … so good? John rocked back on his heels and rolled the condom down his shaft before he slicked himself up with the lube from the nightstand.

Punk couldn't tear his eyes away from John's as the bigger man lowered himself on top of Punk. When John started to push inside him Punk gasped and he saw John's eyes flare wide for a moment. This moment between them felt like it meant something. It felt important. And Punk could tell that John felt the same way. But all of that flew out of his mind as he focused on the sweet stretch and burn of his lover entering him for the first time. John moved again and Punk's eyes drifted closed as he tried to relax and allow John all the way into his body.

John grit his teeth as thrust slowly into Punk. Feeling that tight hot channel wrapped around his cock for the first time, John came close to losing his control for the first time that night. Finally he was balls deep in Punk's ass and he groaned, his head hanging loose on his neck. He looked at Punk and saw he had his head thrown back, mouth open as he panted. John lowered himself further until they were pressed chest to chest and whispered roughly in Punk's ear.

"I'm going to own this ass." He started to thrust. "And you'll give it to me whenever I want like a good little sub, won't you baby?" John deepened his strokes - angling up searching for Punk's spot. He knew he'd found it when Punk cried out. "Yes, Sir! Whenever … oh god … whenever you want."

John laughed at that gasping response and started to move seriously, thrusting deep again and again. "Wrap your legs around me, baby," he directed. "I want to feel those thighs against me." Punk obeyed and they both groaned, the new position tilting John even further inside of Punk. When John felt his orgasm starting to rise he didn't even try to hold it back. He was too eager to come while inside his lover for the first time. And with the way Punk's chest was heaving, his body sweating and writhing, John knew he would explode if he didn't get to come soon. He sped up his thrusts as he took off Punk's cock ring. Taking Punk's cock, hard and wet with pre-cum, into his hand John began to stroke. "Come for me, Phil," he commanded. Two more strokes of John's fist was all it took to send his lover over the edge. Punk strained against his bonds and a soft scream burst from his lips as his cum spilled over John's hand thick and hot. With Punk's tight walls clamping down on his cock and those thighs squeezing his waist John started to let himself go. He drove into Punk faster and faster, his lower back tingling, his thighs shaking. He pounded against Punk's bundle of nerves hard enough to startle a second quick orgasm from him. And as Punk's ass squeezed even tighter around his shaft, John erupted. "Fuck!" He surged forward one last time, his hips tight against Punk's as his cock pulsed with his release. He leaned down and kissed Punk, wanting to be connected to him as much as possible as he came.

Although it seemed as though his orgasm would last forever, eventually the waves of pleasure coursing through John faded away. He slowly pulled out of Punk and collapsed to the bed, remembering not to fall on him and crush him with his heavier frame. John reached up to untie Punk.

The moment the scarves fell free from his wrists, Punk launched himself at John, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hooking his leg over his hip. He pressed his face into John's neck as he trembled uncontrollably. Punk had never felt anything so intense in his life. Now that it was over his brain was all tripped up and he couldn't stop shaking. And he'd instinctively turned to John for comfort. John gave him what he needed, pulling him in tight and stroking his warm hand down his back. Punk lay there letting John ease him down. His breathing finally returned to normal and his body calmed. But when John went to get up Punk protested. John kissed his temple.

"Let me take care of you, baby. I'll be right back I promise."

Punk let him go and then just sprawled bonelessly on the bed, absolutely exhausted. John came back quickly with a warm wet towel and a bottle of water from the hotel's mini-fridge. He wiped the sweat from Punk's chest and the cum off his belly before handing him the water. Punk took it gratefully amazed at how thirsty he was. He drank half of it down before passing it back to John to finish off.

John lay back down and pulled them both under the covers. He tucked Punk's back against his chest and wrapped a leg around him. "You'll stay with me tonight and from now on," he told Punk. "We'll get your stuff from Kofi's room in the morning." John smiled as Punk just mumbled "okay" in a sleepy voice. John reached over and turned off the light.

The next morning Punk was in the hotel dining room grabbing some fruit to go along with his cereal. Most of the roster was there too as they were about to fly out to Spain and would be taking buses to get to the airport. Suddenly John was beside him. He spoke low enough so that only Punk could hear him.

"You were such a good boy last night, Punk."

Punk's stomach did that funny lift thing again and his fingers clenched on his orange. Seriously what was with his reaction to John calling him that? He looked at John as he edged just a bit closer. Not enough to raise eyebrows, but enough to cause Punk's heart rate to speed up.

"It'll be tough for me not to let the details of our relationship show. Especially when all I can think about is having you submit to me again, right here, right now." Punk's cock started to twitch to life. "I guess I'll have to show a little … restraint."

Punk was about to squeeze the orange in his hand to a pulp. He swallowed hard trying to think of anything to keep his erection down. Cow patties, Sheamus's stupid hair, corked bats. _Fucking Sammy Sosa and his corked bat._ That did it. Punk took a deep breath and relaxed. Then he gasped as John seemingly innocently brushed up against him to grab his own fruit from the table and pressed his hips against Punk's. John stepped back quickly and smiled knowingly before walking off whistling. Punk glared at his back. Fucker.

Punk went and sat down to eat. He looked up when Cody plopped into the chair across from him. He raised his eyebrows. "Where's Randy?"

"He's already gone. Had a super early flight back to St. Louis. _Soooo_ John seems extra cocky today. And your face was red as fire after that little display over there."

Punk had to laugh. "Shit. Are we that obvious?"

Cody shook his head. "Nah. Only if you're looking for it."

Punk yawned a bit and rubbed his slightly sore wrists. He saw Cody's lips twitch.

"Rough night?"

"Yeah. Apparently John can be a bit demanding," he cracked.

Cody tilted his head and looked at him. "Yeah. So can Randy."

Punk got the message. It seemed as though he and Cody had more in common than a love for comic books. He suddenly found himself wanting to talk to the younger man about all this, but Cody was traveling to Turkey and Germany while he headed to Spain. He'd have to catch up with him later. They sat there and talked about random stuff until they were both finished eating. Punk stood up to go first, but stopped when Cody spoke up.

"Just a quick word of advice. If you tease John like you did that other night, be prepared to face," – he lowered his voice to imitate Randy - "serious consequences."

Punk barked a surprised laugh. He shook Cody's hand and headed out to the bus.

**TBC**

**A/N**: That was insanely tough to write. I think my brain is still smoking. I wanted their first time together to be a big deal, but as I was writing it I couldn't help but feel like it was too long. What do you think? Reviews and honest critiques pretty, pretty please! Oh and what do you think Punk's safe word was? =)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I know no one and own nothing from the WWE – except for my ever growing collection of t-shirts.

A/N: m/m slashy sex, bondage, and cursing.

**A/N** **#2** Gah! I so wanted to have this out before now. But getting ready to travel with a broken leg (I broke it two months ago – hence the abundance of time to read FF) took me much longer than I expected. And then I was occupied with friends and family. Where did I travel you ask? Back to my hometown of St. Louis, MO for RAW 1000! I had a blast. And the broken leg actually came in handy. Since I had floor seats the stadium staff brought me a wheel chair and wheeled me around back stage to get to my seat. I saw several Super Stars, got a pic with one, and Stephanie McMahon waved back at me! I was so close to her and Triple H that I could have touched his belly since I was at eye level with it in the wheel chair. Thank God I didn't though or Steph might have jumped on me like she did Paul Heyman! It was an awesome night. Ok I'm done gushing. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's a long one – since I prolly won't be able to write again till I'm back home. Thanks to all of you who regularly read and review and I hope I've responded to each of you. It makes me super happy! =)

* * *

John relaxed in the hotel bed with his back against the headboard. He was in an exceptionally good mood. Their traveling circus had made it to Spain with very few issues. The first show had gone off without a hitch. And they were currently in a very nice hotel with time to rest before the next show. But none of that was really responsible for John's good mood. No, what had John so happy was very simple. He had Punk cradled between his thighs, his back against John's chest as they talked. John answered all Punk's questions honestly. Most of them were expected – but some of them made him laugh, like Punk asking would he ever have to bark like a dog. John wasn't sure if he'd been joking or not.

The whole time they talked John couldn't stop touching Punk. He stroked his lover's arms trailing his fingers over his many tattoos. He caressed the soft skin of his belly. He pressed kisses on his shoulders. And again and again John's hands rose to Punk's neck, his fingers circling his throat sometimes lightly, sometimes with the slightest bit of pressure. Each time he did it Punk reacted, whether it was with a slight shiver, or his back pressing tighter against John, or a restless shift of his hips. Punk probably didn't realize what John was doing or what his reactions to it signified, that John was claiming him and that he liked and accepted it. But John knew. It took a lot of trust to allow someone to have their hands at your throat. And Punk was not only allowing it but his reactions told John everything he needed to know about how his lover felt. John was definitely pleased. He didn't just want to play with Punk. He wanted to claim him as his own, to put his collar on his lover so Punk would know who he belonged to. He'd played with plenty of subs before but none had earned his collar. Only once had he even considered giving it to a lover. Never had he wanted to claim his own sub as badly as he did Punk. Still, as badly as he wanted it he knew he would have to exercise a little patience. His lover was new to this and would need some time before John claimed him like that. And their relationship was still very new too. So John would wait.

Punk had so many questions for John that he felt like a little kid pestering his parents to know why the sky was blue. _How long had he been a Dom? How did he even know he was one? Did he ever wear leather chaps?_ But he couldn't help it. Fucking John Cena, the WWE's Superman and shining example of all that was good and honorable was into bondage and domination! He would never have suspected. "So how am I supposed to behave in public around you now?"

"The same as always – like a complete smart ass." Punk laughed. "In public we're John Cena and CM Punk two wrestlers who don't quite see eye to eye. When the time is right we can be open about our relationship backstage. But the fact that I'm your Dom and you're my sub-" John's fingers wrapped around his throat again and he shivered. "That will always be private. Well, maybe a select few will know."

"Like Randy and Cody?"

John chuckled. "You figured that out already, huh?"

"Kinda. Cody clued me in before we left for Spain. But I would have figured it out now that I'm in the know. So who else is all about the bondage?" John gave him a few names, some of which surprised him, and some that didn't. "Albert, huh? Gotta say I'm not too shocked he's a Dom."

John laughed. "Actually he's a submissive."

Punk turned and looked at John over his shoulder. "Seriously?"

John nodded, his eyes showing his amusement at Punk's dumbfounded expression. "Where a person falls with their dominant or submissive traits doesn't always reflect the way they are in other aspects of their life." John nuzzled his neck. "You're a perfect example of that."

That brought up something that had been almost constantly on his mind from the moment John said he was a Dominant. "How did you know that I would be submissive?"

"I didn't at first. I just knew that I wanted you." John nipped at his ear then lightly stroked the bite with his tongue. "And I hoped that you would submit to me. So I tested you a few times to get your reaction." Punk's breathing quickened and his cock started to come to life as he remembered John telling him to keep his hips still or to keep his hands above his head and a number of other things he'd said. He knew now they'd been orders … and he'd followed every one of them. A tiny part of him was a little bothered by that. "You were doing so well, submitting to me every time when were in bed together." When John's voice deepened and his big hand started to stroke a little harder across his stomach, Punk realized John was starting to get turned on too. "I was going to give you more time, because I still wasn't sure you'd want to get into the BDSM scene, but I wanted to own you so fucking bad I couldn't wait any more." Punk stilled.

"Own me?"

John lifted his mouth from where he'd been kissing Punk's neck. Shit, he hadn't meant to say that. Well, it was too late now. "Yeah. When a Dom decides to take a sub as his own he collars him. It's a sign of ownership, letting every other Dom know that sub is someone's property. It's also a sign of a deep connection between a Dom and his sub." He stroked his thumb across the pulse point in Punk's neck. "A sub acknowledges his acceptance of his Master's dominance and a Dom knows the sub belongs only to him." _His to dominate, and cherish, and protect_, John finished to himself.

Punk turned over in his arms sprawling across his legs and looking up at him.

"And have you ever collared anyone?"

John looked directly back at Punk. "No. Not yet." Punk lowered his lashes, his head bowing slightly. John's heart beat harder, his blood running thick and hot. Christ, even that small sign of Punk's submission to him excited him, made him want to exert his dominance over his lover. And Punk did it naturally, not knowing what it did to John. Punk spoke quietly as he trailed his fingers along the waistband of John's boxers.

"I overhead Randy once, telling you to just collar me and be done with it." Those green eyes rose back to his. "I didn't know what he meant then." He smiled slightly. "I thought he was comparing me to a dog or something."

John brushed his thumb over Punk's lips. "But now you know."

Punk nodded, his tongue coming out to lick at John's thumb. "Now I know." Punk was silent a moment before he spoke again. "Sir?"

John inhaled sharply and his cock immediately hardened hearing that word from Punk. "Yeah, baby?"

"Do you think you could test me again?"

John smiled, already reaching for Punk's wrists.

* * *

Punk sat cross legged on one of the waist high crates frowning down at his phone. "Idiots," he mumbled under his breath.

"Who's an idiot?"

Punk looked up to see John standing in front of him in the dark hallway. He'd been so engrossed in reading his Twitter feed he hadn't heard him walk up. "I'm reading some of the comments on Twitter. Some people are still bitching about me getting the cover of WWE '13."

John looked confused. "Why, did they want someone else to get it?"

"No, they're complaining that I'm a sell out and I'm not the Voice of the Voiceless anymore. They're completely missing the point of last year's promo."

John rubbed his palms up and down Punk's smooth thighs. "Poor baby. Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. I just can't believe they don't get it."

"Well why don't you pretend to be mad so I can comfort you?" he teased.

Punk set his phone down and looked at John to see his bright blue eyes shining with amusement. Punk uncrossed his legs and wrapped them around John's waist. "John, I'm so upset. Can you kiss me and make me forget all this?" he whispered teasingly in a low voice.

All the amusement left John's face as it tightened with desire. His hands squeezed around Punk's thighs. "You must want me to fuck you right here, right now."

Punk tightened his grip around John. "Maybe I do."

John wanted to growl with frustration. They were in an open hallway where anybody could walk past. Hell they'd be lucky if someone hadn't already seen them. And he was scheduled to go on in just a few minutes. Still, he couldn't resist a small taste … John dipped his fingers under the waistband of Punk's tights pressing into the firm flesh of his ass. He leaned forward and kissed his lover slowly, pulling back each time Punk tried to deepen the kiss. Then he pulled his hands away from Punk's ass to dig his thumbs into those sweet inner thighs just as his opponent's music hit. He looked into Punk's green eyes dazed and soft with arousal. "Don't tease me, baby." He kissed Punk hard one last time and stepped back from his hold to go put on a show.

After taking a few moments to get his erection under control, Punk hopped down from the crate to head up to the monitor bay and watch John's match. As he sat and watched he thought about John's warning just then not to tease him and Cody telling him there would be serious consequences if he did. He had to admit he was curious. So far everything John had done to him had been insanely intense, pushing Punk to levels of pleasure he'd never even imagined existed. What would John do if Punk intentionally teased him and pushed to get a reaction? Was that even allowed in their type of relationship? He looked down at his phone and considered sending a message to Cody. But he didn't really want to have that conversation by texting. He'd just have to find out on his own, he was too impatient to wait until he and Cody were on the same travel schedule again. _Curiosity killed the cat_, Punk thought. Then he smiled. But satisfaction brought him back.

* * *

It was their last day in Spain before they headed back home. They had some time to kill before they had to be at the arena and Punk had talked John into going down to the pool. They both had on their swim shorts, but John wasn't going down until he found his sunscreen. He had no desire to endure a long plane ride home with a sunburn. He heard Punk shout, "Found it!"

Punk came over with the bottle of SPF 50 in his hand. "Now you won't be all red and peeling." He gestured with the bottle, wordlessly asking if it was ok for him to apply it. John nodded and Punk poured some in his hand before rubbing it into John's back. Punk continued talking.

"Which is a good thing cuz I don't think all your fan girls would find that very sexy. Neither would I actually." John snorted as Punk vigorously rubbed the sunblock on his arms. "I'm serious. Instead of squeals of excitement you'd hear gasps of horror when you took your shirt off in the ring. You think your shirt came back at you before. Imagine how fast it would come flying at you if it had chunks of your burnt skin hanging off it."

John laughed as Punk came around to his front. "That's disgusting. You're-"

"A loveable jerk? I know."

John just rolled his eyes. It was true – and a part of what had attracted John to him in the first place. But suddenly Punk was quiet as he applied the sunscreen to John's chest and stomach. And he didn't seem to be in such a hurry anymore either, taking the time to make sure the lotion was smoothed onto every inch of John's skin. Punk's hands rubbed slowly across John's shoulders, across his chest and down to John's stomach. His fingers teased at the waist band of John's swim shorts his breath starting to come a little faster. Punk lifted his eyes to John's biting his lip. John didn't say anything, he just waited to see what his sub would do.

Punk's throat was suddenly tight, making it a little hard for him to speak. "I'd better get your legs too." Without being told Punk drifted down to his knees at John's feet. As he knelt there with his head bowed, intense feelings washed over Punk. His hands shook slightly as he worked the sunblock into John's skin, caressing them long past the time necessary to make sure he was covered. But he wanted to keep touching John, he needed to. He felt as though he wanted to be as close to John as possible, to somehow crawl inside of him until he was a part of the bigger man. Punk didn't know where this was coming from. One minute he'd been joking as he covered John's pale skin in sunblock. The next minute it had felt less like a favor and more like he was servicing his Dom. As he'd run his palms over those smooth, hard muscles he'd started to get turned on, which made sense. John was fucking gorgeous and his body made you want to just stop and stare. But he'd also started to feel like this is what he should be doing for John, that it was his place to make John feel good. And when he'd gone to his knees, just like their first night together, he'd felt like he was where he belonged. He felt like his only thought should be to please John. But fuck! _Why_ did he feel like that? How could that be normal for one person to feel towards another? He looked up at John confused, aroused, and somehow trusting him to know what to do.

John looked down at Punk watching as all those emotions crossed that beautiful face. He understood. He could tell that for the first time Punk was feeling much, much more than just the physical side of his submission, and he was confused by what he was experiencing. It was John's job as Punk's Dom to help him get through it. Untying his swim shorts he pushed them down and off. John's voice was low and thick with desire. He wrapped his hand around his cock, already full and hard from having his lover's hands on him. "Is this what you want?" Punk nodded slowly. But John wanted more from Punk. He wanted to draw forth what Punk was feeling to help him acknowledge and accept it. "Why do you want it?"

Punk's lips parted wordlessly in response to John's question. What was John asking him? "Because I want to taste you." John didn't say anything he just started stroking himself slowly, his eyes steady on Punk's as he clearly waited for a different answer. His palms tingled, wanting to touch that hard flesh himself. "Because …" Punk's voice drifted off as he tried to think. But he couldn't! He was so mixed up and a little freaked out and he'd never felt this way before and he just couldn't think! He felt John's other hand brush through his hair.

"Tell me. Don't think. Just tell me."

Punk felt like he always did when he stood on the top turnbuckle for an elbow drop. His heart beat hard with frantic anticipation for what was about to happen. He hovered there not sure if what he was about to say was the right thing. Punk closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke, feeling like he was throwing himself into the air, trusting John to spot his landing. "I want what you want. I want to please you, Sir. Let me…" Punk took a deep breath and exhaled. "Let me please you." Punk caught a look of possession and something else he didn't recognize darkening John's blue eyes before it was quickly gone.

"Good boy. That's what I wanted to hear."

Punk closed his eyes, his head dropping until his chin hit his chest. Those words on top of the way he was already feeling ... He just couldn't take it. But John's hand on his chin lifted his face back up. "Open up, baby," John whispered. Punk obeyed and John's hard shaft slid into his mouth. Both of John's hands came up to cradle Punk's head, but they didn't push him or even guide him. John let him set the pace as he sucked his Dom's cock. Punk sucked him deep, sliding his mouth down John's shaft, inhaling John's clean scent as he breathed through his nose. Pulling back he lapped at the broad head, tonguing the sensitive spot where it met the shaft. He sucked kisses along the throbbing vein that ran down the hard flesh until he reached John's tight sac. John's groans told him his Dom liked that so he did it again as he worked his way back up John's shaft. When he reached the head he tightened his lips around it, sucking hard to draw forth John's pre-cum, swallowing it down when it hit his tongue. Punk went back to sucking the entire shaft, again experiencing that feeling that it was his place to service John. His belly trembled and he had the crazy thought that he would do this for as long as John wanted him to. He saw John's stomach clench and felt him pulse in his mouth. Punk moaned and braced his palms on John's strong thighs as he started to suck faster, his own cock hard and aching for attention. Suddenly John stepped back and pulled himself out of Punk's mouth. Breathing hard, feeling like he'd been denied something he desperately wanted Punk reached out for him but John stepped back again.

"Get up and go stand in front of the bed."

Punk did as John told him quickly, his skin flushed, his head buzzing, still slightly thrown by what he'd admitted to John. He heard rustling and foil being torn, and then he felt John's body heat as he came up behind him. John's hands came around and untied the drawstring of his swim shorts before pushing them down Punk's legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. John caressed his back softly.

"It's okay," he whispered. John's hand closed around his throat and he pulled Punk back against his chest. "Everything you're feeling. It's normal, baby. Don't fight it." John grasped his chin and turned his face to his so they could kiss.

As Punk kissed John back he was relieved to know that he wasn't going fucking crazy. This desire to be a part of John and to please him had taken him over to the point he could barely think of anything else. John broke their kiss.

"Bend over and put your hands on the bed."

Punk complied immediately, already anticipating having John inside him. He had a moment's surprise when John started to push inside him without any of the usual preparation he did. But he just relaxed and let him in. If this is how John wanted it then that's what he would get. The sweet burn as John slid his thick cock inside him was stronger without having been stretched first, but he loved it. John groaned deep in his throat when his hips came up flush against Punk's ass, finally reaching the end of Punk's channel. John held tight in him unmoving for long moments, Punk shaking as he fought not to move. He felt John's hand stroke up his back until he reached his shoulders and pressed down. Punk followed the pressure of John's hand until he was bent with the side of his face pressed into the mattress, his arms stretched forward, and his ass in the air. John's foot kicked against his leg until he was spread wide. Punk felt open and vulnerable to whatever John wanted to do to him and he _liked_ it.

John squeezed and rubbed his ass while he spoke in that low voice Punk was starting to love. "Don't think about anything but how good it feels to submit to me, Phil." He slid his cock almost all the way out of Punk's ass only to slam back in. "You'll know as I'm inside you that you're here for _my_ pleasure." Punk moaned at John's words and at the feeling of him again slamming inside him. John sped up his thrusts never easing back on the strength with which he powered into Punk. "You'll crave me, Phil." Punk gripped the comforter in his fists as John pounded into him again and again. John was right. It felt incredibly good to just submit and let John take him as he pleased. As John started hitting his spot with every thrust Punk's stomach clenched and his balls tightened with his approaching orgasm. "John, I'm about to … fuck!" I'm about to come."

John reached down and wrapped his thumb and middle finger tightly around the base of Punk's cock. "Don't. Hold it for me baby, you can do it." Punk bit his lip, gripping the comforter even harder as he fought to hold back his orgasm. John's hand wrapped around him helped but at the same time having John's skin on his cock excited him even more. He started panting, his heart slamming in his chest as the urge to come became almost unbearable with John's hips pumping into him at a furious pace. A part of his brain screamed at him to just let go but another part told him to wait and do as John asked. His decision was made when John spoke.

"You're such a good boy holding back for your Dom."

Punk moaned. He would do anything to hear that praise from John.

"You want to submit to me, Phil, don't you? You like letting me control you?"

Punk nodded his head jerkily. "Yes, Sir," he gasped out. John took his hand off Punk's cock and he immediately felt his cum start to rise up his shaft. He pressed his face into the comforter and screamed with the effort to hold it back.

He heard John talking again. "Say it. Say that you want to submit to me."

Punk shook his head frantically. If he pulled his face from the covers he was going to lose it and come, disappointing John, he just knew it.

John started to slow his thrusts. "Say it right now or I'll pull out and jack off all over your back. Then I'll chain you to the bed to make sure you can't make yourself come and leave you like that all night."

Punk groaned. His cock was so stiff and hard there was no way he could go all night without an orgasm. He dragged his face from the covers, but before he could speak John pulled out of him. He cried out thinking John was about to leave him. But John only pushed him up further on the bed, turned him onto his back, and then followed him onto the bed to slide partway back in as he waited for Punk's reply. Punk didn't dare wait any longer to tell John what he'd asked to hear. He looked up into John's bright blue eyes. "I want to submit to you, Sir. I … I _need_ to submit to you." Punk's head thrashed back and forth as John started moving again, reaching deep and hitting his spot. "God … _fuck_ … I'm supposed to. I _have_ to," he panted. John's big hand gripped his cock tight and started stroking.

"That's right, baby. That's how you should feel."

John leaned down and took Punk's mouth in a fierce kiss. Punk was on John overload. John's thick cock rammed into his ass again and again, his tongue was in his mouth, their sweat slick chests rubbed together, and John's hand squeezed and pumped him perfectly. When John whispered against his lips for him to come with him his response was immediate. His come shot up his cock and erupted all over his stomach, covering John's hand as he continued to stroke. Punk moaned into John's mouth. It felt so good and seemed to keep going and going until Punk was lightheaded. When he finally came down he noticed he'd wrapped his arms and legs around John holding him tight as his Dom came inside him. Punk whimpered when John pulled away to throw away the condom.

"It's okay. I'm right here."

John pulled Punk into his arms and his lover tucked his face into his neck. Again John soothed him as Punk shook with the aftermath. John rubbed his back as he whispered in his ear. "You did good, baby. I'm so proud of you for letting go like that." Punk just nodded against John's skin. John couldn't believe how lucky he was. Punk's submission was so deep and intense. And the way he turned to John to be calmed pleased him so much. He wanted to claim Punk as his own right now! He had a feeling he wasn't going to wait for much longer to place his collar on Punk's beautiful neck. In fact, he was going to be making a call as soon as he had a moment alone. John took a deep breath, inhaling Punk's wonderful scent, the intoxicating smell of the sex they'd just had … and sunscreen. Reminded of how this had all gotten started, he looked and saw that Punk was calm. And although he wanted to do things to get him all worked up again, he didn't. He wanted to make sure Punk was happy both in and out of the bed.

"Do you still want to go to the pool?" After a long moment Punk nodded. "Ok then. Get up and get your shorts back on. Let's go!"

Punk disentangled himself from John. Flopping onto his back he gave the big man a baleful glare. "How in the hell are you already full of energy again?"

John grinned, his dimples flashing. "I'm Super Cena?"

Punk groaned.

* * *

"Maybe I should give being gay a try."

Punk's head whipped around to look at Kofi after he made that ludicrous statement. "What the hell?"

Kofi shrugged. "Well if I was I could date somebody on the roster and have lots of awesome European vacation sex."

Punk stared, unsure if Kofi was joking or not.

"I mean clearly it's working out for you two. Cena is walking around grinning like the Cheshire Cat and you – you look like you've been ridden - "

Punk's eyes narrowed. "Stop right there. Don't you say another word unless you want me to kick your damn head in."

Kofi doubled up laughing so hard he almost fell off his lounge chair. "You shoulda seen your face, man! I'm sorry but I've never seen you _sit_ at the pool before. You're normally challenging me to a tumbling contest or wanting to race laps or something. I had to rag on ya. And well…" He looked over at John who sat under a table umbrella talking to some of the roster. "Cena _is_ over there grinning like an idiot."

Punk jumped up off his chair. "You want a challenge?" He looked around and saw Natalya sitting a few chairs down. "Hey, Natalya! Get over here. Come judge who has the best pool flip." Punk stalked over to the edge of the deep end as Kofi followed laughing.

"Why you doin' this, Punk? You know you're gonna lose."

Punk raised his chin. "You challenged my manhood." Then he laughed. "And I know I can't beat you but I gotta try anyway."

He and Kofi took turns doing the craziest flips they could think of into the deep end of the pool with Natalya calling the winner for each round. Finally Kofi did a 450 splash. When he broke the surface he pumped his fist in the air. "Beat that!" Punk knew he couldn't. So he screamed, "Bonzai!" and did a cannon ball into the pool soaking everybody around him. He came up grinning. He sent an arc of water splashing at Kofi. "What are you stealing moves from Gabriel now?"

Kofi scoffed. "Please! I've been doing a 450 before little Gabriel knew what it was."

Punk rolled his eyes at Kofi and swam over to pull himself out of the pool. When he got out he saw John sitting in his abandoned lounge chair.

"Have fun?" John asked as he walked up.

"Yep. But you, you didn't even get wet."

John shrugged. "Didn't feel like it."

Punk grinned down at him and John's eyes widened.

"Don't you dare, Punk," John warned. But Punk just laughed and shook himself hard, splashing John with water.

John wiped the water from his face. "You're gonna pay for that."

Punk sneaked a look around to make sure no one was close before he responded. "Oh really? What are you gonna do, tie me up?"

John stood and Punk started backing up as John stalked towards him. "As a matter of fact, yes. But that's not till later. For now - "

Punk cut him off. "Now what? You got nothing, Cena," he taunted. John lowered his head and charged towards Punk. Just when he got close enough, Punk grabbed him around his waist, spun him around, and fell backwards with him into the pool. He bounced up out of the water. "Yes! Belly to back suplex. Beat that Kingston!" He was still cheering for himself, Kofi and Natalya egging him on when he felt John grab him and lift him over his shoulders. Punk tried to kick free, but John held him tight before flipping him over onto his back in the water. He came up sputtering to see John standing there with a smirk.

"Attitude Adjustment. Beat that."

* * *

Punk sat in the monitor bay watching Vince in the ring with Ace. He had to admit that RAW had a little bit of an extra sparkle when Vince was on the show. Still, he rolled his eyes at the pencil necked butt comment. Stupid PG era. He saw Bryan walking past and he had an idea for their segment coming up. Punk jogged over to the shorter man. They talked for a minute about having Bryan taunt him for being a sell-out. It wasn't on script, but Punk wanted to make a point about all those comments on Twitter he'd read that day in Spain. As he thought back to that day he was reminded of his curiosity about consequences for teasing John. He'd forgotten about if for a bit in all the commotion of getting back to the States. But now it was on his mind again.

Punk came back to the bay after his segment with Bryan. He took a minute to chug a bottle of water. Those lights over the ring were hot. What could he do to tease John enough? He picked up a pen that was lying there on the table and started spinning it between his fingers as he thought. Suddenly he had an idea. Heading over to John in the back row he sat down, still spinning the pen. "So what'd you think? Got the crowd chanting goat face."

John shook his head. "You'll probably have a t-shirt with it next week."

Punk laughed. "Possibly." Punk looked at John out of the corner of his eye. _Serious consequences. Huh_. He spun the pen faster. What exactly did that mean? He decided right then there was no point in waiting any longer to find out. He let the pen fall from his fingers onto the floor.

"Damnit, I really liked that pen." He got down on his knees next to John who immediately turned his head to look down at him. Punk smiled. "I dropped something." As he reached for it he fumbled it so that the pen shot under John's chair. "Sorry, man. Do you mind if I reach under you for a minute?" But before John could answer he put his hand on John's bare knee like he was using it to brace himself as he reached under the chair. Punk let his fingers slide under John's shorts for the briefest moment and stroked his thigh. John inhaled sharply, his muscle flexing under Punk's fingertips. Punk looked up into those blue eyes watching as they quickly turned smoky with lust. He dropped his eyes to stare at John's groin, which in his current position was right in front of his face. Looking back up at John, Punk sucked his lip ring into his mouth and released it slowly. Just as a muscle ticked in John's cheek Punk hopped up. "Got it. Thanks, John."

He sat back in his chair and noticed Santino looking at him. He raised his eyebrow. "What? I dropped my pen." Santino looked like he was going to say something then he changed his mind and turned back to the monitors.

John leaned over to whisper in his ear. "What the hell was that?"

Punk widened his eyes with mock innocence and responded in the same fake tone. "I told you I dropped my pen."

John narrowed his eyes. "Why do you even have a pen?"

Punk just shrugged and stood. Bending over he touched his palms to the floor to stretch. He bounced at the waist a bit and heard John growl his name warningly in a low voice. He straightened and looked over his shoulder. "Can I help you, Sir?" His tone was mocking, but he knew John would get the implications behind him calling John that. John's face tightened and he made as if to stand. Punk looked at one of the big tvs in the monitor bay.

"Oh man my match is almost up. I'd better go." He tossed the pen to John, then without another word he took off for the gorilla. Punk laughed to himself as he waited for his cue, wondering if that would be enough to get those serious consequences Cody had mentioned.

* * *

John was quiet as he followed Punk into their hotel room. He kept thinking of how Punk had teased him earlier at the arena, kneeling in front of him and sliding his hand up his shorts. Naturally he would have to punish his sub for his behavior. And naturally he was excited to do it. Before he'd let Punk know that he was a Dom he'd held himself back whenever Punk had teased him like that time in the hotel bar. But now … Now he didn't have to hold back and his sub would have to accept his punishment like a good boy for teasing his Dom. Anticipation and arousal made his voice deep and rough.

"I told you not to tease me."

Punk turned around from where he was going through his bag. "_Whaaaat_?"

John stalked over to him. "Don't even try to play dumb. Getting down on your knees practically between my legs in public. Rubbing your hand under my shorts." He stopped in front of Punk who stood there watching him with wide eyes. John cupped Punk's ass in his hand. "Bouncing this sweet ass in front of my face. Did you think I would let that go unpunished?" Punk didn't move, the t-shirt he'd pulled from his bag dangling forgotten in his hand. John stepped closer to his lover, getting into his space and trapping him up against the bed. "For teasing me like that I have to punish you. And hopefully you'll learn that there are consequences for your actions. Do you understand?" He waited for the dark head to nod before he spoke again.

"Strip, now." Punk put the shirt in his hand down and gestured as though he wanted John to back up. When John only narrowed his eyes and didn't move, he saw Punk swallow hard. Punk pulled his shirt over his head, his arms brushing against John as he did so. He toed off his shoes next and then stood there with his hands on the waistband of his shorts. He looked at John for only a moment before he lowered his eyes and pushed down his shorts and boxers. "Go stand with your hands braced over your head on that wall." He pointed where he wanted Punk to go, but still didn't step back, forcing Punk to ease his way around him. He heard him gasp as their bodies briefly came into contact.

John followed Punk across the room to where he stood as John had directed. His long body was stretched out, his round ass thrust back and exposed, just like John wanted. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops on his jeans. "Tonight you've earned a spanking with my belt. Ten strokes baby. He saw a shiver run down Punk's back. John didn't think Punk would need it, but he reminded him anyway. "Remember, if anything is more than you can take, say your safe word." John would never push his sub so far that he needed to say his safe word, especially without checking on him before it got to that point. But this was Punk's first punishment and he wanted him to know he had a way out and could trust John.

John cracked his belt sharply across Punk's ass twice in a row. Punk hissed, his back arching slightly. But he didn't move his hands from the wall or ask John to stop. John lowered the belt and stepped closer to Punk. He rubbed his hand where he'd just spanked, petting his bottom slowly before squeezing the firm flesh. Then he stepped back and gave him another stroke. This time when he rubbed Punk's ass he let his finger slip between his cheeks and teased at Punk's entrance, tapping against it lightly. He noticed Punk's hips move just a bit in reaction. Again with two strokes. Punk cried out when the belt cracked against his ass for the fifth time.

John noticed Punk's ass was starting to turn a delicious shade of red. He dropped the belt for a moment so he could cup that sweet bottom with both hands. He rubbed his palms across the soft skin, feeling it hot to his touch. Punk gasped, his hips jerking back into John's hands. John knew the mix of pleasure and pain from John rubbing his stinging cheeks was responsible for that reaction. He wanted to push his sub into experiencing just as much pleasure as he did pain from this punishment. John pushed a finger slowly inside Punk's tight heat. He thrust slowly while he lowered his head to Punk's neck and ran his tongue up that slightly salty skin. So far John had been careful and refrained from marking Punk's skin. But he no longer cared to deny himself that pleasure. Makeup could cover it and if not, too fucking bad. He sucked at Punk's neck, loving the taste of his sweaty skin on his tongue. When Punk started moaning and moving his hips in time to John's thrusts, John added a second finger. He twisted them as he pumped a little faster. A shudder went through his lover as John bit down on his neck before finally releasing him. He looked and saw a deep purplish bruise already rising on Punk's skin. Punk gave a protesting cry as John pulled his fingers from his ass and stepped back.

"You're halfway there, baby." Picking up the belt he slapped it across Punk's reddened cheeks. John waited long moments before he did it again. And again he waited, watching Punk whose hands had balled into fists against the wall his shoulders rising and falling with his heaving breaths. Finally Punk's ass thrust backwards seeking John's belt and John heard him moan softly. "Sir, please …" John spanked him again, the eighth lash harder than all the others previous. Punk cried out sharply, his hips pumping at air. John had to reach into his jeans and adjust himself. He was unbelievably hard watching his sub take his first punishment, not only without a word of protest but gaining pleasure from it as well. He knew without a doubt that no other man was as perfect for him as Punk. John had two lashes left to give, but he needed to touch Punk first, so he lowered the belt again.

John pressed his body up against Punk's. He ran his hand across Punk's soft stomach, feeling the muscles there twitching under his touch. Trailing his hand down to Punk's cock, he found him already hard, pre-cum beading on the tip. John took him in hand pumping slowly. "Look at you. Cock all hard and wet." John whispered in his ear. "You like my belt across your ass, don't you?" Punk moaned as he nodded his head yes. "Tell me you're sorry for teasing me. And beg me to finish your punishment."

Punk's nerves were on edge as he waited each time to for the belt to fall. And each time it did the initial burning pain morphed into a dark pleasure that had him gritting his teeth against begging John to take him or at least stroke off his hard cock. He wouldn't have ever thought he'd be turned on by someone spanking him, but he was so fucking hard and turned on right now. And he knew it was all because of the man behind him. "Sir, I'm sorry for teasing you like that tonight. Please, please give me the rest of my punishment. I _need_ you to punish me." By the end of his sentence Punk's voice had dropped to a whispering moan, and his hips were moving in anticipation of the belt. But then John gave him another command.

"Stop moving. I want you to stay completely still for your last two lashes."

Punk groaned. He started to drop his head against the wall but caught himself. He wasn't sure if John would count that as a movement or not. He braced himself, clenching his stomach and thigh muscles tight. When the ninth lash fell he bit his lip but remained still. He waited for the tenth lash to come. And he waited and waited until the building anticipation had his blood rushing in his ears and his heart thundering so hard he felt it in his throat. Finally when he was about to scream from the tension, the belt cracked across his ass so sharply that his cock jerked in response. He stood there gasping for breath, still not daring to move until John gave him permission.

He felt John come up behind him and rub his sore and stinging butt. "You did very good taking that part of your punishment." Punk's eyes widened at he looked at John over his shoulder. _That_ _part_? Maybe he should have gotten a little more info before he decided to tease John. John stepped back.

"Kneel on the floor. Since you liked being there so much earlier."

Punk did as he was told, watching as John removed his clothes and shoes. John pulled a condom from his discarded jeans and Punk reached down to stroke himself in anticipation for what was coming. But he was surprised when John stopped him.

"Get your hands off that cock," John snapped. He came forward and grasped Punk by the chin. "That belongs to me and you'll only touch it if I say so. Do you understand?"

Punk nodded and John released him. "Hands on the floor." After he complied, John circled around behind him. He heard the foil packet being torn open and the rubber being smoothed down John's cock. Then John was kneeling behind him and without any further warning, pushing inside him. Punk threw back his head moaning as John clamped a hand on the back of his neck and immediately set a furious speed pounding into him with brutal force. His fingers flexed again and again as he fought the urge to touch himself. He was so hard, his balls so tight, that he wanted to cry and beg, do anything to get John to touch him. But he didn't, because somehow he knew that would only lead to John further prolonging his agony. So he just let John take him, listening to the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, John's deep groans and his own gasping breaths. But John must have been just as turned on as he was because before he knew it he heard John shout. "Fuck! Phil this ass is so tight! Squeeze it tighter for me baby, make me come." Punk did, feeling proud that he was able to affect his Dom so quickly.

John pulled out of Punk and yanked the condom off. Jerking himself at the same speed he'd just pounded into his tight channel he came, spurting all over his smooth back and ass. With his chest heaving he rubbed his cum into Punk's skin wanting to be a part of his lover. Already he was fucking sick of having a condom between him and the gripping heat of his sub. They'd be getting rid of them soon. Leaving Punk braced on all fours on the floor he got up and went to sit on the bed with his back against the headboard.

Punk looked up at him with a tortured expression. He knew Punk must be dying for a release. "Get up and come stand by the bed," he ordered. He watched as Punk pushed himself shakily to his feet and slowly walked over to the bed. Punk stood there trembling, his fingers twitching, his cock so hard it looked like it hurt as it stretched up to his belly. "Touch yourself." Punk's hand immediately came up and grasped his cock and he moaned as he started to stroke himself. His eyes drifted closed and his head dropped back.

John was proud of his sub. He hadn't once had to tell Phil not to come and for the first time he hadn't needed a cock ring or John's hand to hold himself back. He was doing it all on his own without being told. Punk's skin gleamed with sweat in the low lamp light and John just wanted to lick him all over tasting him on his tongue. He didn't know if there was such a thing as a sweat fetish, but he was definitely developing one for Punk's. "You're so beautiful, Phil," he whispered. Punk's eyes opened at that and he looked at John. "May I … may I come please?" John shook his head no. Punk bit his lip but he didn't protest, he just closed his eyes again and kept stroking at the same pace his body tight with tension. John told his sub to stop and he did. "Look at me," he demanded. He waited until Phil dropped his hand from around his shaft and looked at him with those deep green eyes. "Who do you belong to, Phil?" Punk licked his lips, swallowing hard before he answered. "You." John's eyes narrowed and he asked again. "Who do you belong to?"

Punk sucked his lip ring into his mouth. "You, Sir. I belong to you." He took a deep breath. "I'm yours." John had never asked him that before, but Punk knew he'd answered correctly this time. John got up off the bed and came to stand so close in front of him that his stomach brushed Punk's cock. He couldn't help it he cried out, his hips shooting forward seeking that contact again. John ran a finger up the underside of his cock.

"Poor baby, you want to come don't you?"

Punk nodded, ready to beg if that's what it took.

"You'll have to work for it. And you're still not allowed to touch yourself."

Punk sucked his lip ring again as he thought about that. "Can I touch you?" When John nodded he stepped even closer, bringing their bodies together. He threaded his arms through John's to grab his broad shoulders. Then he started to pump his hips, rubbing their cocks together swiftly, grinding hard. It wasn't gonna take him long. Just as he felt his cock start to pulse with his rising orgasm he heard John whisper, "Kiss me." Punk did, smashing their lips together sucking on John's tongue when it thrust into his mouth. The kiss quickly became frantic as Punk's hips thrust faster, his orgasm teasing at his cock head. Punk gasped between kisses. "Shit! I'm coming! I can't hold it … please say I can come!" John's arms came around him and pulled him even tighter against his body. "Come for me, baby." Punk moaned as his orgasm burst forth, coating them both in the hot sticky fluid. He felt a shudder run through John's big body, felt a second splash of heat on his belly and knew he was coming too. Punk's brain blanked as his body trembled, his cock jerking hard, his hips still pumping as the release he'd been craving for so long at long last washed over him. Finally he went limp, resting his head on John's strong chest, hearing his heartbeat thundering under his ear. "John, you make me feel so good." John gave a quiet laugh. "And you do the same for me."

When Punk felt John pick him up he wrapped his legs around his waist and tucked his face into his warm neck. John walked them over to the bed and Punk let go long enough for them to lie down. But as soon as they were settled on their sides he was wrapped right back around John. He loved laying in John's big arms, feeling his warm skin pressed against his, John's hand stroking down his back as he hid his face in his neck. He felt safe and protected and able to calm down from the intense feelings John always aroused in him when they laid like this.

Eventually John spoke up. "We need to shower."

Punk protested sleepily. "No. I don't want to wash anything off me."

John trailed his fingers across the dried cum on Punk's back. He couldn't deny his sub that small pleasure and truth be told he liked Punk all covered in a mix of their sweat and cum. "Okay, but let me get you some water and turn off the light." John's lips twitched as Punk grumbled and slowly let him go. He quickly got a bottle of water from the hotel fridge. He gave it to Punk watching as he slowly drank with his eyes closed, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. John felt a surge of emotion for this man who, although incredibly strong willed, had given himself and submitted to John so freely.

Punk's eyes opened and he smiled as he passed the bottle to John. "You might not make me bark like a dog, but I sure pant like one."

John laughed, almost choking on the water he'd just swallowed. He set the empty bottle down on the night stand and turned off the lamp. Still laughing, he pulled Punk back into his arms and laid down. "You're an idiot. Go to sleep."

"Hey, that's my line."

**TBC**

**A/N**: I'd originally intended to move the story a little further along, but the scenes that I wrote turned out to be much longer than I thought. So what did you guys think of Punk's consequences? Hopefully he'll learn not to tease John again! Thank you for reading and I appreciate all your reviews. =)


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** – I know no one and own nothing of the WWE other than my ever-growing collection of t-shirts.

**Warning** – m/m slash, gay sex, bondage, and cursing. In other words – it's smutty and depraved. ;-)

**A/N** – lonniifierce & Vixxy Vampire guessed Punk's safe word so I'll be letting them give me an idea for a one shot for me to write. =) And woot! I don't know if Punk is officially heel or not – but I agreed with everything he said on Monday. He should get more respect as the WWE Champion! Also, several of you mentioned in the reviews that you liked the emotions in the last chapter. I have to give thanks to Miss Toughie for that. I asked her advice and that's what she told me I should work on. For more yummy Punkena check out her story Learning to Share Control and also slaygirl 190, Xenarocks99 and HeartDeNijs. Or just go look at my favorites list. Lol.

* * *

Punk woke up slowly. The first thing he was aware of was John's palm stroking softly across his bottom. As he felt the soreness there he remembered last night. Cody hadn't been kidding about serious consequences. He opened his eyes to see John watching him with concern in his blue eyes.

"Good morning."

Before Punk could return the greeting John leaned down and kissed him slowly. Punk returned the kiss, but just as he was starting to get into it, his body waking up even more, John stopped.

"Are you okay?"

Punk nodded. "Yeah, just a little sore."

John kept rubbing and gave Punk another quick kiss. "I'll get you some ice before we leave. You took that punishment very well, baby."

Punk felt a blush rising on his cheeks and he fought not to hide his face back in John's neck at his praise. "So umm… is what I did – you know to earn that punishment – is that …" Punk trailed off, not sure how to phrase his question.

John's hand came up and started rubbing Punk's back as he thought about the best way to answer his question. He definitely liked the way his sub teased him, mostly because he knew he'd get to punish him for it afterwards. And Punk had enjoyed his punishment as well which made it even better for John. But he didn't want Punk thinking he could or should do that whenever he wanted. Punk was already a strong individual – John couldn't have him topping from the bottom or their relationship would become chaotic. "I knew your personality when I chose you. I don't expect you to change now that you're with me, so I won't restrict what you do outside our bedroom." _Well, not completely_. John thought. "Just know that you won't be allowed to get away with whatever you want."

When Punk nodded John started to push down the covers. "Now turn onto your stomach and let me see." Punk rolled onto his front and lay his head down on his folded arms. John's mouth went dry and his cock started to twitch to life looking at his lover naked and all stretched out. He tried to get the thought of sliding on top of Punk and taking him just like that out of his mind so he could check and make sure he hadn't done too much damage last night. But when he looked and saw the marks he'd left on Punk's ass he grew even harder.

He'd marked his sub just as he'd dreamed of doing. The shape of his belt was across Punk's ass in a blushing red stripe and the faintest hint of a bruise rose on one taut cheek. John knew it had to hurt and he felt bad that Punk had to deal with it. But God, it was beautiful to see. John bent and brushed his lips lightly across the marks. He pressed a kiss to the bruise and couldn't help but suck the skin there into his mouth. Punk's hips pressed back against him and John heard him moan his name. Before he knew it he was licking across Punk's cheeks, his hands coming up to squeeze and spread them so he could dip his tongue into his hole. John felt a shiver run through his lover, but he also heard him wince in pain. He immediately stopped and got off the bed. Even though he wanted nothing more than to be inside his lover again, he wouldn't take him while he was hurting. Punk turned his head and looked at him.

"Why'd you stop?"

Looking away from those sleepy sexy eyes and fighting to ignore his hard-on, John searched for his pants from last night. "We need to get going soon." He looked back at Punk when he heard him moving and saw Punk push himself up on one elbow to look at the clock on the other side of the bed. As he turned John saw he'd also left finger shaped bruises on Punk's neck where he'd gripped him as he'd pounded into him from behind. Seeing such a proprietary mark had John's cock pulsing and he had to clench his fists tight to keep from reaching out and grabbing his sub and pulling him underneath him for more of the same. Shit. He needed to get out of there and take a moment to get himself back under control. He pulled on his pants and yanked his shirt over his head.

Punk turned back to him. "We have plenty of time." John watched as he sucked his lip ring, green eyes dark with arousal. "And I want you."

John was torn. He didn't want to deny Punk and hurt his feelings, but he also didn't want to hurt him physically either. Holding on tight to his control he sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Punk lightly. "Not right now. I was pretty rough on you last night, baby. And you have to wrestle tonight." John smoothed his hand down Punk's back, his eyes drawn again to the marks he'd left on Punk's ass. "I don't want you to be too sore."

Punk protested. "But I told you I'm fine."

John let a bit of dominance into his voice. "I said no." Punk quieted, his eyes lowering to look at the sheet beneath him. "I'm going to get you some ice." Then he brushed his thumb across the marks on Punk's neck. "You're gonna need to have makeup cover these for you." John allowed himself to rub the sweet marks on those smooth cheeks one more time. Then he forced himself to get up and went to find the ice machine.

* * *

The water streamed down from the shower head but Punk hadn't stepped into the stall yet. He was twisting and turning in front of the mirror looking at the belt marks on his ass and the fingerprints on his throat. John had been so forceful as he'd put them there last night and so gentle as he'd iced them this morning. Seeing them he felt completely possessed by the man who'd put the marks there. It seemed as though he was learning all sorts of things about himself in this relationship with John. Of course he wasn't gonna walk around with his butt out – but he definitely wanted to show off the marks on his neck. He wanted everyone to know that he was John's. It was probably crazy, but Punk didn't care. He just accepted everything John brought out in him. As the mirror finally fogged over covering up his view of John's ownership Punk had to chuckle. Thank fuck he'd asked John out to Denny's that night.

* * *

Punk walked up to the arena with John and Kofi. As usual there was a group of fans waiting outside for pictures and autographs. Punk watched in awe as John effortlessly slipped into his friendly Cenation Leader persona. He was all smiles without a hint of the stern and sexy Dom Punk saw at night or even the caring lover who'd held ice on his bruised butt this morning. And he knew that tonight as John got in front of the camera he'd be pumped and forceful as he went toe to toe with Johnny Ace and Show. Hell, forget the three faces of Foley. John had him beat with the four faces of Cena. Punk was a little weirded out by it. Then he shrugged it off. It's not like he was kneeling at John's feet in front of all these people, so clearly he was just as capable of showing a different face.

Finally they'd managed to break away from the crowd and headed back to the locker room. John went off to an area by himself and Punk chose a spot near Kofi. He looked around and didn't see Cody. He set his bag down and pulled out his phone to text. - Where are you? - After a minute his phone buzzed with Cody's reply.

- Still overseas -

- When are you coming back? -

- Will b there 4 house show on Fri -

Punk thought it was a little odd that Cody wasn't on SmackDown for the go home show. He texted. -Hurry up. I shouldn't have to pick up the slack on your show. - His phone buzzed almost immediately.

- Whatever dickhead!-

Punk laughed. - BTW. Think I'm gonna like serious consequences.-

- That was a warning not a dare dumbass! -

Punk rolled his eyes at his phone and replied. - You should have been more specific. - He tossed his phone into his bag and finished gearing up. As soon as he stepped outside the locker room a road agent came and got him to go over the opening segment with Vickie, Dolph, AJ, Sheamus, and Bryan. Punk wasn't too thrilled about being in a tag team. He was pretty open on his stance on preferring to be on his own in the ring so he could control things better. But he understood the need to advance feuds and storylines so he didn't complain. After they'd hashed everything out Punk went to sit in his usual spot on top of one of the set crates. He'd seen John watching him so he wasn't surprised when he came around the corner to join him.

"So what's on your plate for the night?"

"Gotta play knight in shining armor to AJ and team up with Sheamus against Danielson and Dolph." Punk thought he saw a strange look cross John's face at the mention of AJ, but it was gone so fast he didn't mention it. "What about you?"

John laughed. "I'll be driving in from Mass. to put Show in his place only to be thwarted by Johnny Ace."

They talked for a bit longer, John occasionally stroking Punk's thighs, but conscious of the fact that they might be seen. After a while Punk unfolded his legs and hopped down from his perch. "I need to go and get stretched out."

At the thought of Punk's flexible little body John forgot to watch for anyone passing by and stepped in front of Punk, crowding him back against the crate. "You know I haven't really had a chance to take advantage of your flexibility."

Punk smirked at him. "We have a lot of time between me opening the show and you closing it."

John groaned, leaning down to lick the marks on Punk's neck that for whatever reason he hadn't had covered up yet. "If you're not too sore after your match then I'll be stretching those sexy thighs of yours as wide as they'll go."

Punk swallowed hard as his erection started to thicken in his trunks. Great. Now he was going to have to go for a walk and calm down before he could head to the trainer. It'd be too embarrassing to be on the table with a hard-on. Maybe he ought to learn to keep his mouth shut.

John smiled like he knew what Punk was thinking and stepped back. "See you later, baby."

Punk closed his eyes and took a deep breath before leaving the hallway for his walk.

John waited a minute after Punk walked off before he left the hallway. When he came out he saw Tyson standing slightly around the corner drinking an energy drink.

"Hey, John," he said.

John only nodded back. Had Tyson been watching them? "You on the show tonight?" John asked to be polite.

"Yep. Got a match with Tensai, he answered taking a big gulp of his energy drink.

John tilted his head at the can. "You know that's probably not the best thing for you to be chugging before a match."

Tyson slowly set the can down on a nearby table. "You don't want me drinking them, I won't drink them."

John shrugged his shoulders. "It's not my concern what you drink, Tyson. That was just a little friendly advice." John started to walk off but he stopped when Tyson spoke again.

"I guess all your concern is for CM Punk now," he sneered.

John turned back and got up close in Tyson's face, immediately pissed off that Kidd had the nerve to let Punk's name cross his lips in that tone. "That's right Kidd, Punk is pretty much my _only_ concern. So here's some more friendly advice. If you have any brains in that tiny little head of yours, you'll realize that it's smart to stay away from me and to keep your fucking mouth shut around Punk." John knocked his shoulder against the smaller man's and walked off.

* * *

After his match, which had gone really well, Punk stepped back through the curtain. He headed over to the monitor bay looking for John. He knew John had been watching his match so he'd made sure not to wince every time he'd landed on his ass. He'd practically no sold his bumps and even flung himself over the rope after a tag in to flip onto Dolph just to show he was alright. He started to frown when he didn't see John sitting in the bay, but then he caught a flash of green out of the corner of his eye. John was standing at the end of the hallway they'd been talking in earlier. Punk started to head that way and John turned and went further down the hallway. He reached John just as he headed into an open doorway. Punk followed him in and found it was a small room that, judging by the small table and chairs surrounding it, was probably used for quick meetings. He closed the door behind him already eager for what was about to happen, but then he frowned when he saw a wet cloth in John's hand. "Kinda kills the mood you if you're about to make me wash up first."

John laughed and brought the towel to Punk's neck. "You're just fine baby. Just need to take care of one thing first."

Punk tilted his head back and let John rub the towel over his skin. He knew John was wiping the stage make up off him so that he could see the marks he'd left behind last night … and he found that incredibly hot. He wanted John to see them too. After John was finished he threw the towel aside and smiled.

"Let's go, Mr. Bendy."

* * *

John stood in the ring with Laurinaitis hoping he didn't flub his lines. All he could see in his head was Punk, flat on his back on the table with his thighs spread wide and knees pressed all the way back to his shoulders as John sunk his cock into his snug channel again and again. He'd folded Punk's limber body in half as he leaned down on top of him to lick at the bruises on Punk's neck. And Punk hadn't complained at all, he'd just bit his lip moaning as he let John do what he wanted. John had to stop for a minute in the middle of his promo and pull himself together before he continued on. He was rushing to get to the point where he punched Laurinaitis because well, who didn't want to punch the man, but also because he wanted to get back to Punk. John didn't like that he'd had to leave almost immediately after they'd finished. He'd had to miss holding Punk as he recovered. When the time finally came to punch Big Johnny he was distracted and he punched him across the top of the head instead of in the face. He shook his hand as he felt a streak of pain, but it was mild enough that he knew it wasn't broken. He smiled as he headed up the ramp still shaking his hand. If he was gonna keep enjoying his bendy little sub backstage he was definitely gonna have to work a little harder at being focused on what he was doing in the ring.

* * *

Punk carried his dirty clothes to his washing machine. He had a two day break after taping SmackDown and then four days on with two house shows, No Way Out and then RAW. So he and John had parted at the airport this morning, each flying their separate ways to take care of personal business. He had the Ramones blasting through his apartment and the blinds open as he took care of boring shit like laundry and paying bills. Every now and then he considered getting a personal assistant to do this stuff for him, but it just seemed too pretentious to do so. Plus, he didn't really want anyone in his space like that. As he thought of having other people in his space his thoughts returned to John, like they seemed to do every two minutes.

Could he handle having John in his home? He'd more or less come to grips with the way he submitted to John. It felt so good every time he did so – how could he not? But could he submit to John here in his space? Or would he want to stay the king of his castle so to speak? He knew if they continued on the way they were that eventually they were going to visit each other's homes. So he was going to have to figure out how he felt about that. He was still a little unclear on just how far the boundaries of their Dom and sub relationship went. John had said that he wouldn't restrict what Punk did outside the bedroom, but he had a feeling that the deeper they went in their relationship, the more those boundaries would blur. And Punk _really_ didn't know how he felt about that, especially when he thought of the way Randy and Cody interacted with each other. He just didn't think he'd be okay with submitting to John in public the way Cody did to Randy, even if it was so subtle it was barely noticeable or simply attributed to Randy's age and experience over Cody, the way Punk had always assumed before.

His phone buzzed interrupting his thoughts. He looked to see a text from Colt asking if he wanted to hang. He texted back a quick yes. He needed to get out of his head about all this and hanging out with his goofy friend should do the trick.

Punk sat at a table in a local restaurant enjoying a slice of veggie pizza and a Pepsi. Colt sat across from him enjoying his own pizza and a beer. Colt took a sip of his drink and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Dude. Out with it."

Punk's eyebrow went up. "Out with what?"

"You've got something on your mind. And it's beaming at me so hard I can't hear myself think. So you might as well just tell me."

Punk shoved a big bite of pizza in his mouth and took his time chewing just to irk Colt and make him wait.

Colt crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Real mature, Punk."

Punk smirked and swallowed. He took a sip of his Pepsi before throwing out nonchalantly, "I'm dating John Cena." Then he kinda laughed to himself. Dating might not be the best word. Getting fucked by John on a nightly basis was probably a better description, but that wasn't exactly pizzeria talk. Besides, even though he and John didn't date in the traditional sense – they did have a relationship that went beyond sex.

Colt leaned back in his chair with a shocked expression on his face. "Holy shit balls. How did that happen?"

Punk shrugged. "He decided he wanted me and kept after me until he had me."

Colt shook his head clearly still shocked. "I can't believe _John Cena_ wanted you like that."

Punk's eyes narrowed as he looked at Colt. "Is that right, Chubby Cabana?"

Colt quickly apologized. "Hey man, I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you two are so different and I don't mean physically."

Punk took another sip of his Pepsi, but he gave Colt a look that was part annoyance and part forgiveness.

Suddenly Colt laughed. "So I guess now the CM stands for Cena Magnet."

Punk kicked his friend's shin under the table. "Asshole."

Colt gave a smirk of his own and reached out his hand for Punk to shake. "Pot. Meet kettle."

* * *

Punk lay in bed staring mindlessly at the TV. He was wide awake so he was watching late night 80's cartoons on the Hub. His eyes caught the glow of his phone a second before the text message indicator sounded. It was John asking him what he was doing. His thumb tapped across the screen as he texted -Watching TV.- He hesitated a second before he added, - and missing you.- Then he hit send. His stomach flipped when he got John's response.

- I miss you too, baby.-

Punk's honesty extended to expressing his feelings. If he had something to say he said it and he was glad John felt the same way. His phone chirped with another text.

- U want help getting to sleep? -

- Yeah but what are you going to do, text me a lullaby?- Punk waited for a response but his phone was quiet. Then it rang. He wasn't surprised to see John's name on the screen. He answered and heard John's deep voice with that sexy Boston accent.

"Hey. Did you get everything done today?"

"Pretty much. So I'll probably spend most of tomorrow visiting family."

"Good. But you still need to get some sleep. Turn the TV off."

Punk protested. "I need it to stare at until I fall asleep."

"I'll help you fall asleep. Turn off the TV, Phil."

The command was obvious even through the phone line and Punk searched around in the covers until he found the remote so he could shut off the TV. "It's off," he told John.

"Are you in bed with the lights off?"

Punk told him yeah and John asked if he was comfortable in his pajamas. Punk had a feeling he knew where this was going. "I'm just in my boxers." He was proven right with John's next words.

"Why don't you take those off for me?"

"John, I don't think - ."

John cut him off. "Do what I say, baby."

Punk tucked the phone into his shoulder and started to push his boxers down. He didn't even know why he'd bothered to protest. He knew he'd do whatever John told him.

"I love your beautiful body, Punk. I wish I could have my hands on you right now. Since I can't, you're going to have to do it for me. Touch your nipples."

Punk trailed his hand down and across his chest until he reached a nipple and started tugging on it.

"Are you wearing your nipple rings?" Punk breathed out a yes already starting to get turned on. "I want those in my mouth. You make the sweetest noise when I pull on them with my teeth." Punk pulled on the ring and moaned a little bit. "Hmmm… That's almost the sound but not quite. I've got a surprise for those sexy rings next time I see you."

Punk's breath was starting to come faster as he asked, "What's the surprise?" He could hear the smirking smile in John's voice as he answered.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now would it?"

Punk shook his head then remembered Cena couldn't see him and said no.

"So you'll just have to wait. Like I'll have to wait to be inside that tight ass of yours again."

Punk moaned, the feeling of tugging hard at his nipples and John's words hardening his cock. He wanted to reach down and stroke it but he'd learned he'd better not do that without John's permission. And he had a feeling that that rule stood even over the phone. "Sir, can I please touch myself?"

John's low sexy laugh came through the phone sending tingles down Punk's spine. "Impatient little sub. Go ahead, baby. Stroke that cock for me." Punk wrapped his hand around his shaft, gasping when he made contact. "I can just imagine how hard you are. I bet you'd be even harder if that was _my_ hand stroking you faster and faster before I sucked you down." Punk made a nearly unintelligible sound of agreement as he started stroking himself.

"Don't you wish it was me, Punk?"

Punk squeezed his cock like John always did to him. "Yes, Sir."

"Which do you want, my hand or my mouth?"

Punk moaned. _Why did he have to choose?_ he thought. "Both." He heard John make a tsking sound.

"Greedy, greedy. You're lucky you have a generous Dom. I'd take that cock in my fist and pump you hard while I sucked the head, tasting your sweet pre-cum on my tongue."

Punk groaned, his back arching as his hips started to fuck into his fist. "I need to come."

"Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you."

But Punk held back. "Want you to come with me," he muttered. John was breathing hard as he answered. "I'm right behind you. Now come for me, Phil."

Listening to John's harsh breaths in his ear, thinking about him doing the same thing in his bed in Florida, had Punk's hips pumping faster as he gripped his cock tightly. He drew his knee up and groaned as he started to come, feeling the hot rush of fluid pouring out of him to drip down his hand and onto his stomach. He heard John's deep groan and knew his lover was climaxing too.

A few minutes later, Punk lay there in the dark with the phone pressed tight to his ear, as John told him how much he missed him and that he couldn't wait to see him again. Finally his heart rate slowed and he started to feel drowsy. "That was way better than a glass of warm milk," he mumbled.

John laughed softly. "Sleep well, Phil."

Punk told him goodnight and hung up. He was asleep almost immediately.

John ended his call with Punk. He was well aware of Punk's insomnia, but he'd noticed that his lover didn't seem to have too much trouble sleeping when they were together. Still, he'd guessed that Punk would be up tonight and he was right. And of course John would do whatever he could to help his sub in any way, and that included making sure he got enough rest on his days off. He wiped his belly off with the boxers he'd taken off earlier. As he settled down to go to sleep he had a smile on his face. He actually had two surprises for Punk. He'd made a stop today and ordered Punk's collar and for a bit of an extra fee it would be ready very soon. John considered the money well spent, because he couldn't wait to _really_ claim Punk as his own.

* * *

Punk was hanging out in Kofi's room listening to some ska and thumbing through Ed Brubaker's latest graphic novel. As usual they were arguing over the best way to choose a comic. Punk preferred to go by writer while Kofi made his choices by story. He was in the middle of calling Kofi a crazy son of a bitch when his phone buzzed. He thumbed his phone awake and saw a text from John.

-Cold, empty hotel bed. WTH kind of welcome is this?-

Punk grinned and texted back. -Are you here?-

-Yes & I'm already lonely-

Punk jumped up off the floor and took off telling Kofi bye as he opened the door. Before the door closed behind him he heard Kofi shouting, "Dignity, Punk! Dignity!" Punk laughed as he rushed down the hallway. He probably should be a little more calm but he was happy to see John again and it just wasn't in his nature to hold back.

Keying open their hotel room door Punk ran across the room and leaped, landing on John with a cross body. Punk laughed as all the air whoosed out of John with a grunt. John grabbed him by the upper arms and pulled him up until they were face to face.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to greet me with a simple hello and a kiss?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "Booooring!" Then he leaned forward and whispered, "Hello, Sir," and kissed John. John quickly took over the kiss and in no time at all Punk was naked underneath his Dom, John pushing deep inside him as he held Punk's arms over his head. But this time Punk begged to be released. "I missed you, Sir. Please let me touch you. Please?"

John looked down at him and Punk was so captured by those deep blue eyes he almost didn't notice when John let him go. But he did and he stroked his hands down the thick muscles of John's back caressing the skin that was warm and slick with sweat under his palms. Punk kept going until he gripped John's firm ass, feeling the muscles there flex as his lover pumped into him. Punk's hard cock pulsed and he felt his orgasm building up as John started striking his spot. But he was surprised as John's big hand wrapped around his shaft and stroked him swiftly. "Not gonna wait this time, baby. Come for me." Then he squeezed the head of Punk's cock in the way that drove him crazy. Punk moaned and let himself go. As he came, John leaned down and bit his earlobe, thrusting hard with his own quick orgasm. Punk smiled to himself. Clearly, John had missed him too.

Punk lay draped across John's chest, John lazily trailing his fingers up and down his back. "Thank you for helping me fall asleep when I was at home." John had also called him the second night he was in Chicago. Punk had been an insomniac for as long as he could remember, and he'd thought it was incredibly sweet that John cared enough to call him and help him get some rest. Although the method he'd used had been anything but sweet. Reminded of the phone sex he'd had with John he grinned.

"My boyfriend has such a dirty mouth." Then he pretended to frown. "Although now that I think about it _are_ you my boyfriend or am I just being taken advantage of? You haven't taken me on any dates yet. Well, besides our group ones when you were trying to seduce me. Maybe I should stop putting out."

John growled and squeezed Punk's ass. "Don't even think of denying me access to this." He leaned down and brushed a kiss across Punk's lips. "Or these." As he met those teasing green eyes John knew he was falling hard for Punk. He wanted to press his hand to Punk's heart and tell him not to deny him access to that either. He didn't, feeling like it might be too soon. But he stroked a finger over the skin behind which Punk's heart lay and the words he didn't speak hung in the air between them. Punk's eyes briefly widened but he didn't speak either. He just pushed himself up and kissed John softly. John pulled his lover completely on top of him and wrapped his arms around him tight. Punk kept kissing him and John let him take the lead, his heart thumping as he gave himself up to Punk's kiss.

* * *

Punk wrinkled his nose as he opened the door to the locker room. You'd think he'd be used to the smell of old stale sweat after all these years, but it still stunk. The first person he saw was Cody. The younger man had his back to the locker room door as he dug through his bag. Punk headed over to him and dropped his bag down next to him with a loud thump. "It's about time you're back. Being a wrestler is about more than signing autographs across Europe, you know."

Cody turned to Punk. "If I'd known you were missing me that bad I would have come back sooner."

Punk gave him a dirty look. "Whatever man. I need to talk to you."

Cody smirked. "What, you need submissive 101?"

Punk laughed as if that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Then he abruptly stopped. "Yeah. I do," he said straight faced.

Cody laughed, shaking his head. "I don't see how anybody puts up with you. We'll hang after the show and I'll school your newbie ass." Cody looked around. Where's John?"

Punk started pulling his gear out of his bag. "Where else? Doing a meet and greet with his fans." He pulled his Ninja Turtles t-shirt over his head. "And we're trying not to be together backstage so much since we haven't come out to everybody about our relationship yet. Although the fact that we're all of a sudden rooming together has probably clued most people in."

"I don't know man. People see what they want to see. Everybody bought that Randy was just my mentor for the longest. Some of the roster might have suspected, but they never came out and said anything to us."

Punk sat down and pulled on his kick pads. "Yeah, probably because they were scared he'd get them in the ring and drop them with a particularly nasty RKO."

Cody smiled, his fingers touching the pendant he wore around his neck. "Yeah, probably."

Punk almost rolled his eyes at Cody, but he didn't. He was coming to understand that feeling of belonging to his Dom and he couldn't mock the other man for being fully in the grip of something he was starting to experience himself.

* * *

Punk hung around the gorilla watching John's match against Otunga and Big Johnny on the monitor there. He had to admit that Otunga was looking much better in the ring than he had during his Nexus days. For once, John wasn't having to carry him much. In fact, John looked like he was having fun as he flung David around the ring. And of course Laurinaitisavoided John as much as possible. Finally John ended it with a win. Otunga and Ace came through the curtain first while John celebrated in the ring with the crowd.

Punk nodded at Otunga. "You looked good out there." He knew David had been working hard to improve his ring skills and even he wasn't such an asshole that he couldn't acknowledge somebody's efforts. Punk started to clap him on the shoulder but thought better of it. As usual the man was liberally doused in baby oil and Punk didn't wanna touch that greasy mess. Otunga smiled his thanks before heading back to the locker room. Laurinaitis on the other hand just walked past without a word. He'd been fairly withdrawn lately and Punk wondered if it had anything to do with the rumors that were floating around that Laurinaitiswas about to be replaced in some of his off-screen duties.

Punk looked at the monitor and saw that John was still hamming it up. All of the roster always had a little more fun at the house shows without having to worry about the cameras. Eventually John made his way up the ramp and he came through the curtain breathing hard. He smiled and his blue eyes sparkled as he saw Punk waiting there for him. He came over still bouncing and happy.

"Hey. You wanna get out of here after your match?"

Punk shook his head. "Sorry I can't. I told Cody I'd hang out with him for a bit."

"Oh that's too bad. Cuz I was gonna take you out on a date tonight."

Punk snorted. "No you weren't. You're just saying that to try and get into my tights."

John looked around and when he didn't see anybody he stepped closer to Punk and ran his finger along his waistband. "I can't help it. They're just so tiny and low. It's like you want me to be constantly thinking of ways to get them off you. Maybe I should talk to Vince about instituting a dress code – trunks can be no lower than a quarter inch from the navel."

"You'd better not. Knowing Vince he'd do whatever his Golden Boy asked and I'd wind up wearing trunks so high I looked like Hacksaw Jim Duggan."

John laughed and stepped back. "Fine, keep your indecent tights. Just try not to have any more wardrobe malfunctions in the ring."

Punk opened his mouth probably ready with a smart ass comeback, but he had to swallow whatever he'd been about to say as Bryan came around the corner. "What's up, Daniel Bryan Danielson?" he said instead. Bryan started talking about their upcoming street fight, not noticing as Punk gave John the evil eye.

John just grinned at Punk and then headed off to the locker room to shower.

* * *

Punk lay across the second double bed in Cody's room drinking a Pepsi and eating Twizzlers. The TV was on the SyFy channel playing some random monster movie, but neither of them was really watching it. "So the whole teasing thing. Is that like poor sub behavior?"

"Depends on the Dom." Cody answered. "Some Doms like to have their subs under complete control and wouldn't tolerate that. Others don't mind when their subs play, because then they get to exert their dominance and pull their sub back in line. And if John made sure you felt pleasure in your punishment, then yeah, he's one who likes to be teased."

Punk's face flushed hot as he thought back to John spanking him with his belt and then making him work for his orgasm. That orgasm had been a long time in coming – but he'd definitely felt pleasure that night. He snapped back to attention as he heard Cody talking.

"And going by the blush on your face – I can't believe CM Punk is blushing, how cute – and by your stupid text that you like consequences I'm gonna assume John did make you enjoy your punishment."

Punk threw one of his Twizzlers at Cody, hitting him in the forehead. "Shut up."

Cody just laughed and picked up the Twizzler to eat it. "Don't hate me for speaking the truth! But I hope you realize, you never know how inventive or intense your Dom's punishment is gonna be. So play at your own risk." Then he grinned. "But that's part of the rush."

Punk had to grin back. He could see himself taunting John just to see what he would come up with next. And he'd been hot with anticipation as he realized John was about to punish him for his pen stunt. "How do you know if Randy wants you to be regular Cody or sub Cody?"

Cody took a big sip of his drink before answering. "Randy gives me this look and I automatically know when he's in Dom mode. Actually with us more often than not I'm submissive to him, but that's just me. And Randy … well he can't help but be in control pretty much all the time. I don't mind though so I let him."

Punk's brow scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean let him?"

"They might be controlling us – but without us allowing them to they couldn't do it. Dom's – well good Doms anyway – don't want to take control, they want us to give it to them – to submit willingly."

Punk remembered the night when John had told him he was a Dom and had waited patiently for Punk to make up his mind to submit and undress him. He hadn't forced him then and he hadn't at any time since. Punk looked over at Cody who was laughing at the TV as a winged creature chomped the head off an unfortunate lab geek. He couldn't believe how mature Cody was about all this. But then Cody had been in a BDSM relationship for several years so it made sense. "Does Randy ever tell you …" he trailed off actually embarrassed to say it. "Does he ever give you praise?"

Cody cut his eyes over to him. "You mean does he tell me that I'm a good boy?"

Punk sat up. "Yes! Fuck! What is it about that that makes me feel like-" he stopped trying to find the best way to describe it.

"Like a puppy squirming for his Master's affection, desperate for a pat on the head and stupidly happy that you managed to please him?" Cody described in a dry voice.

Punk laughed. _Again with the dog analogies_, he thought. "Yeah, pretty much."

Cody shrugged. "When you truly submit to someone all you want is to please them. When your Dom gives you praise you know you've managed to do that and you feel proud that you made them happy." Cody looked sad for a moment and his fingers came up to touch his pendant.

Punk realized that he must really be missing Randy. "Did Randy give you that?" he asked. "I always see him playing with it."

Cody smiled. "Yeah, he loves being reminded that I'm his."

At Punk's questioning look Cody got up and crossed the small space between them to show him what was on the silver medallion. It was a viper coiled as though ready to strike. But when Punk looked closer he saw that the snake's body was made up of twisting curling letters that spelled out RANDY ORTON. Punk was impressed at the detail in the engraving. "That's pretty sweet."

Cody thanked him and went to sit back down on his bed. Punk had to ask. "Is that your collar?"

"Yeah. Well Randy has my true collar. I wear this in public because it's a tad less conspicuous. A lot of subs who either can't wear their collars in public or don't have a collar that could just be seen as a necklace will get something like this from their Masters."

Punk inwardly flinched at the word Master. He was cool calling John his Dom, but Master felt like more than he was willing to accept. He looked up and saw Cody watching him.

"You know John is gonna want to collar you, right?"

Punk nodded distractedly, still thinking about having to call John Master.

"And are you cool with that?"

He bit into another Twizzler and shrugged. He thought it was – but it seemed like a pretty big step. Punk changed the subject. "I don't ever see you being submissive to anyone else."

"And you won't. I might be submissive sexually, but not in my work or any other part of my life. Besides only my Dom can bring that out in me."

Punk was pretty relieved to hear that. Ever since he'd started this relationship with John he'd been thinking about that.

Cody smirked. "What are you worried that if somebody on the roster told you to kneel in the middle of the ring that you'd do it?"

Punk shot another Twizzler at Cody. "Fuck you. But yeah, I guess I was."

"Don't worry. Your personality isn't gonna change. And if that did happen? Be prepared for John to punish you to the point you'd be ready to scream your safe word."

Reminded of his safe word Punk laughed. Cody gave him a look and he explained. "Just thinking of the safe word I picked – Boy Scout." Cody's eyes got big and Punk laughed again. "Well, shit. When I realized what John was into outside the WWE I figured I wouldn't be saying _that_ in bed unless I absolutely needed to. Clearly he's not the goody goody I thought he was."

Cody fell back on the bed he was laughing so hard. "Punk that smart mouth of yours is gonna keep you in trouble."

Suddenly 'Voices' blared from Cody's phone and a second later Punk's phone buzzed with a text. Punk checked and saw it was from John. Punk looked at Cody who'd thumbed his phone to silence. "What do you bet they timed that?"

Cody rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't take that bet. I'm pretty sure they were talking to each other and decided that it was time they had our undivided attention back."

Punk agreed and stood up to go. He slapped Cody's outstretched hand. "Thanks for schooling me man, I appreciate it." He really did. John had explained a lot to him but he'd still wanted to get some info from somebody who was in the same position as him. He felt a little more at ease about some things … but not all. Still Cody had been helpful.

"Anytime. And try to stay out of trouble."

Punk snorted. "Not in my nature."

* * *

Punk followed John into their hotel room after the No Way Out pay-per-view. He watched as John yawned and stretched, groaning as his back popped. Punk couldn't resist taunting him. "Man, John you must really be tired. Three days in a row of actually wrestling. No spraying old guys with fire extinguishers or covering scrawny commentators in Good Ol' JR's barbeque sauce. You're probably gonna want to take some time to rest and recover," he said in a mockingly sympathetic voice.

John turned around and gave Punk a look. Punk inhaled sharply. He had a feeling he'd just seen the look Cody was talking about. John crooked his finger at him and Punk obeyed the command, walking over to John even though he was a little leery about what he was going to do. He was confused when John didn't acknowledge his comment but reached into his bag and pulled out something that flashed silver.

"I told you I had a gift for you. I hope you'll forgive me for not having it wrapped."

Punk looked at John's clenched fist trying to see what it was. "I don't mind."

"Good. But you'll have to undress to get it."

Punk's curiosity was up so he immediately stripped down wanting to find out what his gift was. John's thumb came up and brushed across Punk's nipple, before he tugged lightly on his nipple ring. He looked Punk in the eye as he whispered, "I love these." Then he lowered his head and sucked Punk's nipple into his mouth. Punk moaned, his head dropping back as John flicked his ring with his tongue before taking it in his teeth and pulling. John licked his way across Punk's chest to his other nipple, taking it into his mouth and biting down hard. Punk gasped, his hands coming up to rest on John's shoulders to hold himself steady. He was already hard and John was so close the rough denim of his jeans kept rubbing against Punk's cock. He heard the clink of metal on metal and felt more tugs at his nipple rings. He looked down and finally saw his gift as John stepped back.

It was a thin, silver Y-shaped chain. The two short ends attached to his nipple rings – the tail was about three feet long and of course John held the end of the chain in his hand. John tugged on the chain and Punk felt the pull on both of his nipples at the same time.

"Do you like your gift, baby?"

Punk swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Sir."

John pulled him towards him by the chain. "Then get over here and thank me."

Punk stepped closer to John, the pull of the chain on his nipples sparking a painful pleasure in that tender flesh. He leaned up and whispered, "Thank you, Sir," before kissing his Dom, sliding his tongue into John's mouth. He sighed and wrapped his arms around John's broad shoulders when John's tongue stroked against his. The kiss was soft and slow and went on and on. Finally John broke the kiss and pulled back. Punk looked up into John's blue eyes. Again he had that feeling that he belonged to John and would do anything to please him. But this time there was no confusion. He relished the feeling. He loved everything John did to him. Loved the way John made him feel. Loved … His train of thought was broken when John ordered in that sexy low voice, "Undress me." Punk did, his cock pulsing every time John pulled on the chain. When John was naked Punk licked his lips, wanting to reach out and touch his lover. But Punk had a feeling he was in trouble when John gave him a wicked smile.

"You know you're right. I think I am pretty tired. You're going to have to do all the work tonight."

Punk definitely knew he was in trouble when John reached into his bag on the table and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. John dropped the chain for a minute.

"But I know how you like a challenge so I don't want to make it too easy for you." He pulled Punk's hands behind his back and cuffed them together. "I decided not to worry about any possible airport embarrassment so I could bring these with me. I can always say I'm using them in a match." He clamped the cuffs closed around Punk's wrists.

Punk groaned. Seriously, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

John grabbed a condom from his bag, then started walking backwards towards the bed, pulling Punk after him by his chain. John lay back on the bed the chain tugging hard at Punk's nipples for a moment before he followed him down. He'd barely managed to get to his knees without the use of his hands when John pushed his head down. "Get down there and suck me." Punk's fingers twitched behind his back, John's order making him feel like a possession that had no choice but to obey. He scooted back until he was kneeling between John's thighs then leaned down and licked at John's cock until he finally managed to suck it into his mouth. Punk moved his mouth on John slowly knowing he couldn't use his hands to hold John's cock in place. But apparently John wasn't having that. He pulled on the chain and ordered Punk to go faster. Punk moaned as pleasure-pain streaked from his nipples straight down to his cock. He sped up, sucking harder, getting lost in John's heavy breathing and the exquisite pain every time John yanked on his chain. He wished John would fuck into his mouth – he loved the way that felt – but he knew John wouldn't since he'd told him he had to do all the work tonight. So he lowered his head, swallowing John down as far as he could go. He held himself there, licking the underside of John's cock.

Finally John gave a particularly strong yank on the chain and Punk gasped letting John's shaft slide from his mouth. He looked up to see John tearing open a condom wrapper using only one hand and his teeth before rolling it on.

"That's all the help you're getting tonight. Come ride me, baby."

Punk groaned. "Please can you un-cuff me first?"

John shook his head. "Nope. You can do it." John watched as Punk moved his knees to the outside of his legs and scooted up his body. John groaned when their cocks brushed against each other as Punk worked his hips trying to get John into position. John felt like he was the one being teased and tortured as his cock head slipped and slid across Punk's smooth ass, but he still didn't raise a hand to help. Finally the tip of his shaft slid into Punk's tight entry. Punk rocked back pushing John deeper inside him. John exhaled hard as he held himself back from thrusting up into that sweet heat that was sliding down his cock too slow to suit him.

He yanked on Punk's chain. "Hurry up, baby. I'm so tired from wrestling three days in a row I might fall asleep, then you'd be stuck in those cuffs all night." John could sense Punk wanting to say something but he pressed his lips together instead. John smirked, loving that he'd managed to shut Punk up. Punk's thighs flexed as he lifted himself up then slammed back down, seating John's cock deep inside him. His dark-haired lover sat there for a moment until John snapped the chain against his stomach. "Ride me, Phil." Punk started to move and John groaned as those tight walls gripped his cock. "That's it, baby. Faster, bounce on me." Punk sucked his lip ring into his mouth as he obeyed John's commands, moving faster and faster as John urged him on.

John was absolutely entranced with the view above him. Punk's head was thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted with his panting breaths. With his arms cuffed behind his back Punk's stomach and thigh muscles clenched hard as he worked himself up and down on John's cock. Sweat ran down his tattooed chest and John licked his lips wanting to taste him. Then he thought he was the Dom so he could do whatever he wanted. Punk was the one restrained, not him. John sat up and licked across Punk's chest. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and then pulled on the chain. Punk cried out, his ass clamping tight around John's cock. John groaned and sucked harder, his hands slamming onto Punk's narrow hips, pushing him up and jerking him back down roughly again and again. Punk's thighs squeezed around his waist as he gasped, "Oh god, John, yes! Right there."

John abruptly let go of Punk. "What did you call me?"

Punk's eyes flew open. "Shit! I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to …" He shook his head desperately as John lay back down. "No, please, Sir. Don't stop. I need-"

John jerked the chain. "Quiet," he snapped. "Who are you trying to please, me or yourself?"

Punk lowered his eyes. "You, Sir. Only you."

"That's right. And don't forget it again. Now act like a good sub and make your Dom come."

Punk started moving again surprised at how bad he felt for disappointing his Dom like that. But as he slid up and down on John's hardness, feeling it dragging across each of the sensitive nerve endings inside him his arousal washed over him again. He rose faster and faster, swiveling his hips and tightening his channel on John's cock, using John's groans as a guide to determine what he liked. He nearly forgot his hands were chained behind his back as he watched John, wanting so bad to touch him. His broad chest pumped up and down with his heaving breaths, a muscle ticking in his strong jaw.

John spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm about to come, Phil. Come with me."

Punk moaned. "I can't." His cock was stiff and aching, but he couldn't touch himself and he knew John wouldn't.

"I don't want to hear that bullshit." John said harshly. He pulled on the chain sharply making Punk's nipples sting. "You can. Work for it."

Punk obeyed, rising up and slamming down hard, forcing John's cock to repeatedly hit against his spot. John kept tightening the chain until there was hardly any slack left and Punk gasped at the constant pleasure-pain. He closed his eyes feeling his orgasm building, his balls heavy and tingling, his shaft pulsing.

"Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

Punk nodded, managing to choke out, "Yes, Sir."

"Open your eyes and look at me." Punk did, staring down into those blue eyes.

John whispered. "Come for me, Phil."

Punk slammed down one more time and that was it. His cock pulsed hard and his cum shot from him spurting all over John's stomach and chest. He kept moving, eyes still locked with John's, feeling his Dom's orgasm burst hotly inside him through the condom, and he suddenly wished there was nothing between them. He squeezed his inner muscles tight wanting to wring every bit of pleasure he could out of John. Going by John's deep groan, those bright blue eyes closing as he finally let loose and thrust his hips up, Punk was successful.

Punk stayed straddled over John's lap, wanting to collapse on top of him, but not wanting to earn any more of John's displeasure either. So he waited for permission. John smiled and this time he pulled gently on the chain until Punk lay against his chest, their hearts thundering, both men struggling to catch their breath. But if Punk thought John was finished paying him back for his earlier remark he was wrong.

John exhaled loudly. "Man, now I'm too tired to clean myself up. You'd better do it for me."

Punk looked at John who merely looked back at him with a raised brow. Punk lifted himself off of John and raised his hips, letting his softening cock slip out of his body. He swung his leg from around John's hip and leaned down licking up the cum he'd shot all over his Dom. Punk felt a rush of pleasure as John's hand stroked his hair and he heard, "Good boy." He must be forgiven for his earlier slip. He looked up as John tugged on his ear and said softly, "Hey, come here and give me a taste." Punk swiped his tongue again across the fluid on John's stomach and then crawled up the bed to give John a kiss. The kiss was rough and hot and Punk loved how owned he felt with his hands still behind his back and John's big hand clamped around his neck. Eventually John released him to get up from the bed and Punk collapsed onto his stomach.

"Cripes!" He turned his head to see John coming back with the key to his cuffs. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

John laughed and sat down to unlock the restraints. "Bondage for Dummies."

Punk groaned as the cuffs came loose and his arms were no longer pulled behind his back. He rolled over and let John take the chains off his nipple rings as well. "Funny."

John stood back up. "C'mon a hot shower will take the soreness out of your shoulders.

Punk pulled the pillow over his head. "No. Wanna sleep."

But John couldn't let him go to sleep without making sure his shoulders wouldn't hurt in the morning. "If you come and shower with me I'll massage your arms for you," he coaxed.

The pillow lifted enough for one green eye to peek out. "Promise?"

Punk was so cute John had to smile. "I promise. Now get up."

Punk sighed and pushed himself up dragging his feet as John pulled him by the hand across the bedroom. "Does this mean I'm now officially a member of the chain gang?"

John laughed and yanked Punk into the bathroom.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! I appreciate all your reviews and PM's. I hope you're enjoying John and Punk coming together as a couple. They've got some big steps on the horizon! And then maybe some dark clouds in the distance. Also, I tend to listen to one song on repeat to get my head in the right space for certain things I'm writing. For the chain gang sex I wore out AWOLNATION's 'Sail'. Does anybody else do that when they're writing?


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I know no one and own nothing of the WWE – except for all my t-shirts. (Seriously, I need to stop giving the WWE so much of my money)

**Warning**: gay sex & cursing

**A/N:** I apologize for taking so long to update! Started back at work and going back to roller derby practice (even though I can't skate yet – stupid broken leg. And yep, derby is how I broke it) So, I used my last bits of uninterrupted free time to laze around and read instead of writing. But I should be posting once a week from here out. =)

**A/N #2:** I went to SmackDown last Tuesday when it was here in Houston. HeartDeNijs convinced me to make a **C**ena **M**agnet poster. I did, and even though I was sitting on camera side it didn't make it on TV. Boo! Lol. This is a long chapter cuz I just couldn't see where to stop it. Hope you enjoy it! Oh! And the Punk/Cena interactions on RAW tonight were awesome. I almost died laughing when Punk aped the 5 Moves of Doom.

* * *

Punk pulled the cable back hard on the rowing machine. He had his headphones on and a good rhythm going in his workout today. And he also had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Things were going really well with John and last night's sex had been off the charts awesome. The soreness he had today in his nipples was totally worth it. He liked how John had his own way of dealing with his smart ass comments. He didn't get mad or offended like other people he'd dated. No, John just cuffed his hands behind his back and got a little sexual payback. With his inability and lack of desire to censor what came out of his mouth, he'd probably be spending a lot of time in John's cuffs. He laughed as he thought that it was probably a good thing they hadn't been dating during their on-screen feud last year with all the shit he'd said, because more often than not they had been his words – not the script's.

The door opened and Tyson Kidd walked in. Punk was still laughing so Kidd must have taken that as a sign that he would welcome some company. And to be honest, he didn't mind. The sun was shining and the birds were singing or some shit. He took off his headphones as Kidd approached him. "Hey man what's up?" They clasped hands briefly.

"Not much. Just thought I'd get a workout in."

Punk swept his arm out. "Gym's open man. Have at it." They ended up working into each other's sets as they talked about No Way Out last night. "That was a pretty sweet hurricanrana you threw last night. Got the crowd chanting holy shit."

Tyson grinned. "Thanks. Hoping this tag team with Gabriel leads to something."

"You're not the only one. I wouldn't mind seeing the tag team division really start getting some attention again. That match last night should be a great start." Tyson agreed and they discussed some of the great tag teams that had come and gone. Then Tyson brought up John's match.

"I'm still always surprised to see Cena pick up Big Show."

Punk laughed. "Yeah, me too. If I tried that I'd wind up completely flattened. Or be taken to the emergency room with a hernia."

"You guys are rooming together, right? I bet he was groaning in pain last night."

Punk's lips twitched and he choked back a laugh as he thought that John had definitely been groaning last night, but it hadn't been from pain. He was changing the weight on the lat pull down so he didn't see the dirty look Tyson gave him. "I guess he was alright, he didn't say anything to me about it. But Johnny Ace was probably the one in pain last night, it's not like he's used to taking bumps every day." They both laughed thinking of Laurinaitas getting AA'd onto the Spanish announce table. Yeah, the evil GM was a character he played but Laurinaitas had sometimes been a little too gleeful with some of the wrestlers he'd future endeavored. And they'd both had friends let go by Big Johnny. So they took a little bit of pleasure thinking of the ruddy faced man being a tad bit sore and in pain.

John stepped into the gym looking for his lover. Punk had left his cell phone in the room and he was about to be late for his morning's publicity appointments. Punk had his back to him and John took a moment to admire that smooth skin, damp from his workout. Then he noticed who Punk was talking to. Tyson fucking Kidd. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Kidd. If the other man had said anything to Punk, John would tear him apart. Kidd noticed him and smiled. Punk turned around to see who Kidd was looking at and John made sure to get the glare off his face before Punk saw it. Punk jumped up, looking like he was ready to come over to John before he remembered Kidd was there.

"Hey Cena, what's up? You about to work out?"

John shook his head. "No, I came to tell you that you're about to be late for your appearance this morning. Fallon's people are sending a car for you pretty soon. You need to get going if you want to get cleaned up first."

Punk looked at the clock on the wall. He grabbed his towel and headphones as he saw the time. "Shit, I totally forgot. Guess I had other stuff on my mind." Punk looked at John and sucked his lip ring, loving it when he saw John's eyes immediately fill with heated arousal. He grinned, knowing John couldn't do anything in front of Tyson. Punk said a quick see you later to Kidd and then told John, "Thanks for the heads up, roomie," before heading upstairs.

John stayed behind for a minute. "I thought I told you to stay away from Punk."

Kidd shook his head. "He was just here when I came in to work out. And I didn't say anything to him." Kidd stood up. "Besides what's the big deal if he knows? Everybody has exes right? And you ended things with me before you took up with your current play thing." Kidd smiled and walked closer. "Well, except for that one night."

"Don't take another step." John snapped. Proving that he had at least some sense, Kidd stopped. "First off, unlike you, Punk is more than just a play thing. He is _mine_. Second, nothing happened between us that night."

"If it was nothing why are you so worried about Punk finding out?"

John's stomach felt like a ball of lead had dropped into it. Tyson was right, something _had_ happened between them and John regretted the hell out of it. But it wasn't happening again so he wasn't even going to think about it. "I'm not discussing this with you, Kidd. Just remember what I said. Keep your mouth shut."

* * *

Back in their hotel room, John watched as Punk threw on jeans and a t-shirt after his shower. "You're not gonna put on something nice for your first late night talk show appearance?"

Punk looked down at himself. "Nope. Take me as I come. Besides, I don't exactly own nice clothes and I wouldn't carry 'em around with me if I did. I got enough crap in my bags."

John just shook his head in exasperation and gave Punk a quick kiss. "I'll see you tonight at the arena."

After Punk left, John pulled out his phone and Googled the nearest men's clothing store. He wasn't dumb enough to go to a mall and get mobbed so he needed something fairly small and out of the way. Punk had teased him about taking him out on a date, but John really wanted to do so. And since they were in New York tonight John had the perfect place to take him. But Punk would need something appropriate to wear. He found a store nearby that looked like it would work. Then remembering that Randy had come up for the pay-per-view last night he shot him a text to see if he and Cody wanted to join them tonight. Ten minutes later as he was headed down to the lobby to get a cab his phone rang. It was Randy and he sounded out of breath.

"Sorry, man I was busy."

John made a disgusted sound. "You coulda just texted me back, Randy. I don't wanna hear you all postcoital."

"Whatever. You know I hate texting. Anyway, yeah we'll come with you. Cody's been bitching that he wants to go dancing."

John heard Cody complaining in the background and then Randy's deep voice apologizing. John rolled his eyes and waited but he'd had enough when it got quiet. He didn't even want to guess what they were doing. "Hello! I'm still on the damn phone."

Randy came back on the line laughing. "My bad. We'll meet you two there after RAW."

"Alright, cool." John started to get off the phone then he decided to ask Randy's advice about the Kidd situation. "Hey, man did you ever mess around before you got with Cody?"

Randy laughed again. "What are you kidding, John? You know I couldn't keep it in my pants."

John grinned as he heard, "Oww! Fuck, Cody. That hurt!" and then indistinct grumbling from Cody. John cut in before Randy could start apologizing to his sub again. "Yeah, your name really suited you. But I meant while you were pursuing Cody."

Randy told him to hold on for a moment. There was rustling and then a door closing. "What's this about, John?" Randy asked all joking gone from his voice.

John sighed in frustration. "Back during our group date phase, I had a little encounter with Kidd."

"Oh for shit's sake, John! You fucked him?"

"No! Damn, Randy why do you have to immediately assume that? But he did come into my hotel room and some things happened. And now I don't know if I should tell Punk."

"Why are you even thinking about it? Has Punk asked or something?"

"No, but I've had a couple run-ins with Kidd and it's got me thinking that he plans to say something."

"Look. Ordinarily I'd say just leave it alone. It's over, you're with Punk now and there's no point in bringing up old shit."

John waited for Randy to finish the 'but' clear in his voice. When Randy remained quiet he finally prodded him to speak. "But?"

"_But_, Punk is a hair-trigger. And I don't know what you did with Kidd, but if it was more than a handshake _and_ it happened while you were going after Punk _and_ he finds out about it from someone other than you? Things could get ugly between the two of you. So my advice is just to tell him."

John held the phone with silence of his own before he finally thanked Randy and hung up. His friend was probably right. Punk _was_ a hair trigger and John didn't want to do anything to jeopardize their relationship. But he didn't want to ruin the evening he had planned for them or what he hoped was going to happen during their upcoming days off. So John would tell him. Just … not right now. As he sat back in the cab he'd hailed he closed his eyes, unable to believe how stupid he'd been that night. Because even though he'd ended the night drunk, he remembered everything that happened.

A group of them had gone out to a local club after one of the house shows. He'd been sitting at a booth in the back, Punk next to him. And all of a sudden they'd been by themselves at the table as everyone else had left to go to the bar, bathroom, or were on the dance floor. John had been so pleased to finally be somewhat alone with Punk that he'd dared to lift his arm from where it rested along the booth behind Punk and brushed his fingers up and down his neck. When he didn't pull away John grew bolder, massaging Punk's neck, sliding his thumb underneath the collar of his t-shirt to stroke over his spine. He'd felt Punk relax into his touch and John started to get excited, thinking that something might happen between them that night. He'd scooted a little closer, just enough to brush his thigh against Punk's. And although the other man was still staring straight ahead, John saw his lips part, his tongue briefly darting out to lick them. John had applied the slightest bit of pressure to Punk's neck to get him to turn and face him. When Punk raised his eyes to John's he'd seen in them the sweetest mix of desire and hesitation. He'd wanted so badly to just kiss Punk and show him how good it could be between them. But he hadn't. He'd told Punk he would wait for him to decide. And they were out in public. He was already pushing it with his hand on Punk's neck. That he might be able to shrug off as just an awkward moment if someone caught it on camera, but there was no explaining away a kiss. So he'd waited, the air thick with tension between them, his fingers tingling with the urge to pull Punk closer. All he'd needed was for Punk to say yes, or okay, or even just nod his head! If he had, John would have had them out of that bar and back to his hotel room in no time. But that hadn't happened. Instead Punk's phone had rung. He'd looked startled for a moment and then dug it out of his pocket to answer it. He'd told whoever it was on the phone to hold on and then with an apologetic and slightly relieved look at John he'd slid out of the booth to take the call outside.

John had groaned in frustration as he watched Punk's retreating back. But he'd had to choke back his disappointment when Punk came back to the booth and chose to sit on the other side next to Kofi instead of in the spot John had been saving for him. A few minutes after that Punk made his excuses and left with Kofi. And a few minutes after that feeling defeated, John had already knocked back four shots and was on his second beer. He'd kept drinking and by the time he'd returned to his empty hotel room he'd been completely faced.

When a knock came at the door he'd stumbled over to open it on auto pilot. Tyson had been there asking if he wanted some company. And John had been so frustrated, and drunk, and goddamn horny that he'd pulled Tyson into the room. He'd slammed Kidd up against the door, kissing him hard and grinding their cocks together. But the whole time he'd been kissing Kidd he'd been wishing it was Punk he was pressed against. He'd thought that he didn't want to taste Kidd anymore so he'd turned so that his back was to the door and pushed Tyson to his knees. The smaller man knew what John wanted. He'd freed John from his jeans, stroking him to full hardness. And yeah, John had definitely had his dick in Tyson's mouth that night. But as he'd leaned back against the door with his eyes closed, all he could see was Punk as he'd been earlier at the table, his eyes wide and his pulse beating fast in his throat as he'd tried to decide if he was ready. It had finally clicked in his alcohol soaked brain that what he was doing was wrong and if he couldn't be with Punk he didn't want to be with anyone else. He'd pushed Kidd off of him and told him to leave. The younger man had been confused and probably a little pissed. But John hadn't cared, he just wanted him gone. And the second he was, John had staggered to the bathroom where he took an icy cold shower until his head was somewhat clear and his hard-on was gone. After he finished and dried off he'd collapsed on the bed in disbelief at what he'd almost done. Fuck, what if Punk had seen him pull Tyson into his room? If he had their relationship would be over before it even started.

At the arena the next night he'd been nervous, waiting to see if Punk was going to blast him for being with Tyson when he'd claimed to want Punk. But Punk hadn't said anything. He must not have seen. John had breathed a sigh of relief and barely thought of it since. Until now that is. As the cab pulled up to the store he'd directed the driver to, John pulled out a couple of twenties to cover the fare and a generous tip. He decided to quit thinking about that whole mess. He'd already made up his mind to tell Punk after this week. And if Kidd decided to say something to his lover, well then he'd be instructing the road agents to schedule a no DQ match between him and Kidd at the next house show. And John would show him he'd meant it when he said to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

Backstage at RAW the atmosphere was even more pumped than usual. Rowdy Roddy Piper was there and so was Cyndi Lauper. For all of them that had watched wrestling as kids back in the 80's, it was pretty cool to have them around. Punk stood talking to Piper, picking his brain as he always did whenever Hot Rod was around. The man had been his idol as a kid after all. Piper had been great at walking that fine line between heel and face and Punk wanted to get his opinion on some things he had planned.

Punk looked up as he heard John's voice and had to hold back a smile as he came over. They still hadn't let the gen pop know they were involved, but John was going to give the game away with his inability to stay away from Punk. All night long he'd returned over and over to Punk's side. But he didn't say anything. He didn't mind and he wanted John near him just as much. John joined in the conversation. The two of them didn't touch and John didn't seem to pay any more attention to him than he did Piper. But Piper must have picked up on something between them anyway because Punk noticed the legend giving the two of them a strange look. After John bounced away again, Punk found himself the sole focus of Piper's laser-like stare.

"So you and Cena seem to be getting along."

Punk shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," he said. He wasn't going to admit to anything, but he wanted to see where Piper was headed with this.

"Relationships in the WWE, friend or _otherwise_, can be tricky. And Cena … well Cena has more pull in this company than anybody whose last name isn't McMahon or Levesque. Keep that in mind, whether the chips are up or they're down."

Punk was pretty sure he caught the gist of Pipers warning – he just didn't think that would be an issue between him and John. Still, he respected Piper so he grasped the other man's hand in a firm handshake. "Will do. And thanks for all the advice."

* * *

Punk hurried into the hotel room after RAW, John trailing behind him. "Hurry up my segment on Jimmy Fallon is about to be on." Punk turned on the TV and flipped to the right channel. He pulled John down on the bed next to him. After a commercial break Punk pointed at the TV in glee. "Ha! Check out my entrance. The shit we get to do man. Our job is awesome."

John smiled as on the screen Punk and Fallon started doing snow angels. "You did great. And you look like you had fun."

"I did." He smirked. "My first late night talk show appearance and I'm already the best in the world at it." He climbed onto John's lap. "Let's celebrate."

John shook his head still smiling. "And you're so modest."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Modesty is a false emotion. I don't believe in it."

John laughed. "The shit that comes out of your mouth. No wonder you're always in trouble." He pushed Punk off his lap. "We'll celebrate, I even have a surprise for you."

Punk's hands came up and covered his nipples, an expression of mock horror on his face. "I don't think I can take any more of your surprises."

John gave him a look. "Careful, or I'll show you just how much you can take."

Punk bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with teasing and arousal, but he didn't say anything else. John reached on the side of the bed and grabbed the bag he'd placed there earlier. He gave it to Punk who looked inside with confusion.

"My surprise is clothes? Are you about to start dressing me now?"

"No, I'm about to take you out tonight and I knew you didn't have anything appropriate to wear."

Punk looked at John in surprised pleasure. "My boyfriend is taking me out on a date! I don't have to be ashamed anymore that he only wants me for booty calls," he joked.

John gave him a swift hard kiss. "Enough with the sarcasm."

Punk laughed and gave John a much softer kiss. "Just ignore my smart-ass mouth." He held the bag up. "This is pretty cool." Then his face sorta fell. "This isn't a fancy place is it? Cause I don't do too well with fancy."

"It's not fancy, I promise." John reassured him. "But they do have a dress code. So go ahead and get changed."

About fifteen minutes later Punk came out of the bathroom in his new clothes and shoes. He'd changed in there so he could trim his beard and slick his hair back again. "Whaddayou think? I look good?"

John looked up from buckling his belt. He thought his boyfriend looked more than good. John had kept Punk's comfort level in mind when he bought his outfit. He'd chosen a dark green short sleeved shirt. His jeans were a black rinse and fit him at the waist and straight down the leg instead of baggy and wrinkled like usual. He walked over and wrapped his arms around Punk. "You look good alright. Good enough to eat." He rubbed his face into Punk's neck. "And you smell good enough to eat too." John kissed the soft skin there before running his tongue up to Punk's ear. He sucked his earlobe into his mouth biting down gently. John felt a shiver run through Punk and his hips moved against his. He kissed Punk thrusting his tongue inside his warm sweet mouth. Their tongues stroked against each other slowly as they shared breaths. John broke their kiss already breathing hard. He grabbed Punk's hand and brought it to his cock, already hard for his man. "See what you do to me, baby?"

Punk started stroking him through his pants. He looked at John. "Maybe I can take care of that for you before we go?" he asked, licking his lips.

John was so tempted as he gazed into those green eyes. But he knew if he felt Punk's hands and mouth on his cock he wasn't going to want to stop. He'd want more. He always wanted more when it came to this man. He cleared his throat and took a step back. "No, we need to go. Randy and Cody are waiting on us."

Punk groaned.

John's brow creased. "What? I thought you liked hanging with Cody."

"It's not that. It's just … I never get to finish my Pepsi when we hang with those two."

John was confused for a moment then he remembered what Punk was talking about. "I promise you'll get to finish all the Pepsi you want tonight," he said laughing.

* * *

Punk crossed the lobby with John where they saw Santino just checking in at the front desk. They stopped briefly to speak but before they could make it out the doors Zack came out of the elevator.

"Yo bros! Where you two headed? Can the Z man come with?"

Punk looked to John who had an expression on his face like he was trying to come up with a polite way to say no. Punk on the other hand had no problem telling people to get lost and he was about to do just that when Santino spoke up.

"No Ryder you don't want to hang with those two. They're probably about to go to some big-wig gala. Come hang out with me. I'm about to watch Jersey Shore for the first time on my Netflix. And I want to try some Bud Light Lime."

Ryder looked shocked. "Santino, man you've never had a Bud Double L or seen Jersey Shore? Oh, you're in for a treat, bro."

Punk walked off with John now that Ryder was occupied explaining all the drama on his favorite show. He looked back over his shoulder wondering why Santino had run interference. When their eyes met Santino picked up a pen from the hotel desk, twirling it between his fingers. Then he dropped it and held his hand to his mouth, his eyes big as he made an exaggerated 'oops!' face. Punk burst out laughing.

* * *

"What was so funny back there?" John asked as they sped down the highway.

"Santino noticed the pen incident before. And he figured out that we've got something going on behind closed doors. He reminded me of it just now when I looked back wondering why he helped us out with Ryder."

"Oh, I thought he just really wanted to hang with Zack."

Punk shrugged. "Maybe that too. Stranger things have happened."

John's voice was low as he responded. "Yeah. Like me getting to spank your round little ass after all the time I spent lusting after it."

Punk shifted in his seat as he remembered the feel of John's belt cracking across his ass. He swallowed hard. "Right. Who'd a thunk it?"

John laughed and Punk changed the subject before he could say something else to get him even more turned on. "So where are you taking me?"

"To a BDSM club." Punk sat up straight. "No shit! Will I see someone tied to a St. Andrew's cross and getting whipped? Do people wear ball gags there?" He saw John glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What the hell have you been looking at?"

Punk smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would actually. But no, you won't see that … that all takes place behind closed doors in private rooms."

Punk's eyes widened, he'd sorta just been joking. Then he had a thought. "Aren't you worried someone will out us and plaster our faces all over TMZ?"

"No. This place is very private and secure and has a very exclusive membership. So we'll be safe."

They drove for a few more minutes until John pulled up to a clean and neat but fairly non-descript looking building. But instead of parking in the street he drove down into an underground garage attached to the building. They came to a tall gate and John rolled down the window to enter a pin on the key pad. When they parked and got out, Punk looked around noticing all the nice expensive cars. There wasn't a single old Civic or mommy van covered in 'my kid is smarter than yours at random suburban elementary school' stickers in sight. Punk followed John over to the elevator, watching as he put in another code to start the elevator moving.

Punk whistled low. "Damn, you weren't kidding about being secure. Do movie stars hang out here or something?"

John nodded. "Yep."

"Really? What about Presidents? Have there ever been any Presidents here?"

John smiled mysteriously. "Maybe."

The elevator door opened and they stepped out into a very nice lobby. The floor was black marble while the walls were painted a stark white. There were well-kept live plants and several chairs and couches covered in dark gray suede scattered throughout the area. They walked up to a, well Punk didn't want to call him a bouncer although he was big enough to be one, but he was dressed in a nice gray suit and he sat behind a white marble desk. Punk decided doorman fit the guy better.

"Good evening," he greeted. "Your membership numbers, please?"

John rattled off his number and Punk waited for him to say something like "and guest." But instead John gave a second string of numbers. Had John gotten him a membership here?

"Thank you, Sir. I'll need you to check your cell phones. Will you need one drawer or two?"

"One is fine," John answered. He passed the doorman his phone and then reached out for Punk's. He handed it over without question. The doorman/bouncer locked them up in one of the little cubby drawers on the wall behind him and then gave John the key. John took it and slid it into his pocket. Then he wrapped a hand around the back of Punk's neck as they walked across the lobby to a set of frosted glass doors.

"That was some top secret shit."

John nodded. "There are a lot of people into the Scene that can't afford to have their tastes be public knowledge, since BDSM is still considered pretty taboo. So private clubs like this exist to meet that need. No names are given when visiting, only membership numbers. You have to be sponsored by another member and the credit card charge shows up as a health club on your bill. And cell phones are taken to make sure no one takes any pictures. John opened the heavy and apparently sound proofed doors and Punk got his first look at the club.

He'd been expecting it to be dark and broody with chains hanging from the walls and everyone dressed in black leather. Instead he came into a room with more glossy black marble flooring. The walls here were painted a soft gray and were decorated with black and white photographs of people in various BDSM poses and outfits. The lighting was soft, especially at the booths. The booths were all circular with very high backs, offering the occupants privacy. And they were lit by a soft glow that came from the table instead of overhead. Punk kept looking around as he walked with John.

John must have known where he was going since he headed off in a straight line, still herding Punk along. But before they reached wherever their destination was they came up behind Randy and Cody. John reached out and tapped Cody who turned around and Randy immediately turned to see why Cody had stopped.

As the four men greeted each other, Punk couldn't help but stare at Cody and Randy. Both men looked extremely attractive. Randy was dressed in a tight black short-sleeved shirt, his heavily muscled and tattooed arms on full display. His tee was only tucked into his dark gray pants in the front, a big silver belt buckle drawing attention to his hard abs. His hair was freshly buzzed and his steel blue eyes gleamed in the dim lighting. Cody on the other hand wore a pale blue v-neck shirt that although looser than Randy's still showed off the pads of muscle on his chest. His slim black pants hugged his narrow hips. But it was Cody's throat that Punk's eyes were drawn too. The **v** of his shirt showed off to perfection the thick brushed-steel collar that circled his throat. In the dim light Punk could just barely make out the etched designs of several snakes that curled and twined across the metal. Punk leaned over and whispered in John's ear. "They make a good looking couple."

John turned to look at Punk and was surprised when he saw what looked like insecurity on his face. He wrapped an arm around Punk's neck and pulled him close to whisper back, "Forget those two Bishie Boys. You're perfect to me and you're the only man I want." Punk didn't react but John could tell that his words pleased him. They sat down at their reserved booth and a server came over almost immediately to take their drink orders. Punk of course got Pepsi, but he showed surprise when John ordered a Sprite.

"You know I don't mind if you drink."

"I know," John said. But you don't like it when I taste like beer when we kiss." John brushed his lips against his lover's. "And I plan on kissing you tonight. A lot." John smiled. "In fact…" John kissed Punk right then, stroking his tongue across the seam of his lips until Punk opened with a sigh and let him in. Their tongues tangled together hotly, their passion heightened by the fact that they were finally somewhere they didn't have to hide their relationship. John pulled back and looked at Punk. He loved seeing his lover like this, lips swollen and wet from their kiss, eyes soft and dazed with arousal. He would do anything to make sure he got to put that look on Punk's face every day they were together.

"How cute," Randy mocked. "The honeymoon phase where you can't keep your hands off each other."

John and Punk both looked at Randy, who was running his fingers through Cody's hair and nuzzling his ear as they watched.

"Uh… then what's your excuse?" Punk asked.

Randy looked wounded. "I've been on forced vacation away from my boy. Absence makes the heart go fonder."

John rolled his eyes. "Then what about all the other times you've been all over him?" Randy was well-known for his inability to keep his hands off of Cody backstage … and sometimes in public as well.

Randy smirked, "I'm a big horn-dog?"

John and Punk laughed as Cody elbowed him in the side. The four of them sat talking and enjoying themselves. All of a sudden Cody started to leave the booth by scooting over Randy's lap.

"Cody, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I love this song! I want to go dance," the younger man replied.

"And that's the only way you could think of to get out of this booth?" Randy growled.

Standing up Cody gave Randy a cheeky grin. "Not the only way but definitely the best way." Then he turned to Punk. "I'm only allowed to dance with other subbies, you wanna come with?"

Punk snorted, "Only if Against Me! is playing."

Cody looked confused. "Who?"

John laughed. "That was a no, Codes." Cody shrugged then took off for the dance floor, immediately finding a group to dance with. John gave Punk a quick kiss then excused himself from the table.

Punk turned to look at Randy who was watching Cody out on the dance floor with an amused expression on his face. He started to say something to Randy but instead looked up as someone approached their table.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"No thanks. I'm set," he said gesturing to his soda.

"Alright then would you like to dance?" Punk looked at the guy, starting to get annoyed. "No."

The guy persisted. "Why not? You're not collared."

Punk didn't know what the etiquette was for this place but he was about to snap on this guy. Before he could lose his temper Randy spoke up.

"He might not be wearing a collar, but you know he's here with someone because I saw you watch him as we walked over here. So fuck off and leave him alone."

The other man glared but must have decided he didn't want to square up against Randy because he turned and walked away.

Punk looked at Randy in surprise. "Thanks, man."

Randy turned away from where he'd been staring after the obnoxious Dom. He shrugged. "John is my best friend, and he's been alone and fairly miserable for a long time. I've never seen him as happy as he's been since he got with you. So as far as I'm concerned I'll always have your back."

Cody came back to the table and sat down, Randy immediately kissing him and stroking his fingers over Cody's collar. Punk looked away, not wanting to intrude on their moment, while wondering what it would be like to wear John's collar and have the type of connection Randy and Cody had. He was imagining having a collar around his own throat when John came back to the table. Even though he knew John couldn't read his mind his face flushed in embarrassment. John sat down and gave him a questioning look.

"What were you thinking about?"

Punk just shook his head, for once not letting his mouth immediately spew what was in his brain.

John smiled. "Don't make me say it."

"Say what?"

John put on a campy evil villain accent. "I have vays ov making you talk."

Punk laughed. "You are so corny."

John just smiled again, his dimples popping. "Yeah, but you like it."

"I like you."

That simple statement earned him another kiss from John. This time John's hand settled at the small of his back, pulling him up against John until their chests pressed together. Punk wrapped his arms around John's neck letting John suck his tongue, moaning when his Dom bit his lip and then licked over his lip ring. They were so into it they didn't even notice when Randy and Cody left the booth to go and dance to the slow song that had come on. When they finally stopped, Punk decided to bring up what he'd been thinking about earlier in a roundabout way. "This guy tried to get me to go off with him while you were gone."

John sat up straight and scanned the crowd. "What?! Who?" He looked like he was about to go and put a beat down on whoever it was that had bothered Punk.

"Calm down, John-boy. Randy ran him off like a good guard dog. But he seemed to think that since I wasn't wearing a collar that I was fair game."

John turned back to Punk. "I'm sorry, baby. Most Doms in here aren't such blow-hards. He was probably more a fan than anything."

He shrugged. "No big." He paused for a moment before he asked his question. "But am I?"

"Are you what?"

Punk looked down. "Am I fair game because I'm not … since I don't have a collar?"

John wrapped his hand around the back of Punk's neck, his thumb rubbing along his throat. "Of course not, baby. You're mine, you know that." He watched as Punk bit his lip and nodded.

"I know. I was just wondering ..." Punk trailed off and didn't finish his sentence. He couldn't believe it. _He_ was at a loss for words.

John knew what Punk was thinking about. He wanted to know if he was going to be collared. And that made him even more certain that he'd made the right decision for how he planned for them to spend the next few days. He moved his hand until he clasped Punk by the throat, pulling him closer. "Do you think you're ready for that? To be completely mine? To really accept my dominance over you and acknowledge that I own you?" John felt Punk's pulse speed up under his palm.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered. "I'm ready. I want that."

John closed the last few inches between them and kissed Punk fiercely. He hadn't been kidding when he said he planned to kiss his sub a lot tonight. After a few moments of their lips pressed together, John paused, resting his forehead against Punk's as they caught their breath. The music changed and Punk pulled back, tilting his head to the side as he listened.

"Is that the Ramones?"

John smiled. "The DJ didn't have some of your more underground stuff, but he did have some classic punk rock."

A huge smile broke out on Punk's face. "You asked the DJ to play some punk for me?"

John nodded, enjoying his lover's pleasure at such a small thing.

Just then Cody came bouncing up to the table. "Alright Punk even I know this is your kind of music. Come dance!"

Punk laughed and gave John a slight push to move and let him out of the booth. He didn't usually dance but since John had gone through the trouble to have one of his favorite bands played he would match Cody step for step on that dance floor.

* * *

Punk woke up grumbling as the hotel phone kept ringing. He answered it only to make it stop. "Good morning, Sir! It's 7 am and this is your requested wake-up call," chirped a sickeningly happy voice. Punk mumbled thanks and hung up. John's arm came around his waist, pulling him back into the cradle of his big warm body.

"Don't even think about trying to leave this bed. We've only been asleep for about two hours."

"I know, but I have to catch my flight back to Chicago." Punk shivered as John kissed the nape of his neck.

"No you don't. Come home with me."

Punk turned over to face John in surprise. "You're just now asking me to come to Florida?"

John smiled without opening his eyes. "I was a bit busy last night. It slipped my mind."

Punk hesitated for only a moment – he'd known the time would come when John would invite him home. He'd been unsure if he was ready for that before but now that John was asking him he realized he definitely wanted to go. "Okay I'll come to your house but you have to – oh crap!"

John finally opened his eyes and looked at Punk. "What?"

"I forgot that I have to do Colt's podcast tomorrow. So I have to go home. But I can come to Tampa afterwards."

"You'll come immediately after?"

"I'll go straight from his place to the airport."

"Good." John pushed Punk over onto his back. "The podcast is tomorrow you said?"

"Yeah," Punk said slowly as John started rubbing low on his belly.

"So that means you don't have to catch that early flight this morning."

Punk took a little bit longer to answer this time. He was distracted by John's hand cupping his sac. "Umm… no. I guess not," he said opening his legs a bit to give John easier access.

"Then you'll spend the day here with me in bed."

It was a command not a question. As John squeezed his balls lightly, Punk gasped and gave the only appropriate response. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

Punk ran through everything he had to do in his head one more time. He was hosting Colt's 100th podcast and he was nervous. He didn't want to fuck up his best friend's show. Before they got started Colt asked him how things were going with John. Punk tried to play it cool. He shrugged. "Things are good."

Colt laughed. "You are so full of shit man. Just admit that you're in _loooooove_." Colt dragged out the last word in an obnoxious voice and made kissy faces.

"Shut up, Colt. You're the one that's full of it." But Colt didn't shut up, not that Punk actually expected him to.

"Did you or did you not send me a text all giddy that Cena asked the DJ at some club to play some punk rock for you?"

"Yeah." Punk answered grudgingly.

"And I don't recall you having any media appearances yesterday, but hmmm … you got in really late. Where'd you spend the day?"

"Maybe I was tired and just wanted to spend the day in bed."

Colt burst out laughing. "I can't believe you just said that with a straight face."

Punk had to laugh too. "Fucker. If you already think you know how things are going with us then why'd you ask?"

"I just wanted to see if you'd pass my test and admit it." He shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately you failed."

Punk rolled his eyes. "I thought I was here to talk about wrestling – not gab about my feelings like I'm some 15 year old girl."

Colt let it go. "Alright man." Then he smirked. "But I bet you don't make it twenty minutes into the show before you bring up Cena."

Punk gave Colt a look. "You know I don't gamble."

"Oh this isn't a gamble. It's a sure thing."

* * *

Earlier that day John had listened to the Art of Wrestling podcast on his iPod as he went around getting ready for Punk's visit. He'd been to the store to stock up on Pepsi, Twizzlers and food for the next few days. But after he'd listened to the podcast he'd run back out for one more thing. And of course he'd gone to pick up Punk's collar. He thought it had come out really well and he couldn't wait to give it to him. Just thinking of seeing his sign of ownership on Punk's neck had his stomach clenching tight with anticipation as he stood at the stove cooking spaghetti for dinner tonight.

He'd enjoyed listening to the show, Punk's Chicago accent more pronounced as he talked with his friend. John had been surprised that Punk had brought his name up in the broadcast. As Colt had talked about thinking John wanted to kill him he'd known exactly what he was referring to. He didn't like to admit it, but sometimes he was pretty standoffish to the guys just starting out. It wasn't because he was an asshole, he'd just learned to do so to keep some of the less scrupulous guys from trying to use him for a step up in the company. But when the conversation had turned to Punk thinking he was fat he'd been even more surprised. John loved Punk's slender and lightly muscled body, he couldn't imagine that Punk would see anything wrong in the way he looked. He'd have to make sure his sub realized just how attractive John found him.

Just as he was straining the spaghetti he got a text from Punk saying he'd be there in 10 minutes. John had wanted to pick him up from the airport but Phil pointed out that was asking to be spotted by someone and have questions start flying about why CM Punk was visiting John Cena in Florida. He'd agreed but the more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't care about that. It was bad enough they had to keep their relationship behind closed doors but he wasn't going to hide their friendship too. Friends hung out and visited each other. And if people chose to read more into that … well they'd be right, but he didn't care.

John heard a car coming up the drive as he took the garlic bread out of the oven. He started to head to the front door then remembered one thing he hadn't done. He took off for the stairs taking them two at a time and running down the hallway. He reached the last door on the right, locked it, slammed it closed and then ran back down to the foyer. The doorbell rang just as he reached the front door. He opened it just a little out of breath. Punk noticed and gave him a look as John let him in.

"Why are you out of breath?"

John took Punk's bag from him and started backing him up against the front door. "Maybe I'm just excited to see you."

Punk's eyebrow rose. "Yeah, right. Tell the truth, you were playing with yourself weren't you?"

John was laughing as he kissed his lover. "Why would I be playing with myself when I knew you were on your way here to do it for me?"

Punk wrapped his arms around his neck. "Good point." They kissed each other hello, both of them glad to be together again even though they'd only been separated for a day.

John gave Punk one last peck and then pulled back. "Alright do you want the tour first or do you want to eat first?"

"I'm starving but I can wait a few more minutes to eat. Show me around."

John clasped Punk's hand and pulled him behind as he went from room to room showing him his house. Punk was impressed with his home gym and his man cave, mentioning how awesome it must be to watch horror movies on such a big screen TV. John waved a hand at his case that displayed all the replicas of the titles he'd won. "It's not the fridge so you might not approve."

"I guess it's classy. Not nearly as original though."

"I'm a classy guy," he said grinning.

Punk snorted. "Says the man who wears jorts nearly every day of the year."

They walked to the back of the house and John flicked on the patio lights to show Punk his pool. "We can go swimming tomorrow." He lead Punk upstairs showing him the two guest rooms, office, and finally his master bedroom. John watched as Punk looked around his bedroom. It was fairly stark since he wasn't home much. But he did have a great big comfortable bed. Punk walked over and pressed down on the mattress.

"Hmmm… soft. I guess I could sleep here."

John teased him from the doorway. "Who said you were sleeping in here? I'm putting you in one of the guest rooms."

Punk walked back over to him with a scowl on his face. "I did not fly across the country to sleep in the guest room."

He laughed and pulled Punk into a hug. "Of course you're sleeping with me. Like I'd let you sleep anywhere else." John started to head back down the hallway but Punk saw there was one last door.

"What's in there?"

"Nothing. Just a room that's being remodeled." Punk looked like he was about to ask to see it anyway so John pulled his hand. "Come on let's go eat."

Punk saw John had made spaghetti with garlic bread and a salad. He offered to help bring everything to the table but John told him to sit down. John set a plate of spaghetti in front of Punk. "It's meatless of course."

Punk smiled. "You're such a good Italian John."

He snorted. "Don't be too impressed, spaghetti is pretty much the only thing I can cook. Although I do make a mean fried bologna and cheese sandwich."

Punk made a disgusted face. "Yuck. You'll be eating that by yourself."

They sat and talked about nothing in particular as they ate. Finally, Punk sat back in his chair after he'd cleaned his plate. "That was really good." He smiled at John. "You take such good care of me. I want to do something for you."

"You can." John got up from his chair and then pulled Punk up as well, pressing their bodies together. "I'm going to clean up the kitchen. And when I'm done I want to come in my bedroom and find you kneeling on my bed, completely naked."

Punk's lips parted, his eyes starting to fill with arousal. "I didn't mean something sexual but I'm okay with that."

John smiled. "It's not sexual, well not totally anyway." With that cryptic remark John swatted Punk on the ass and pushed him out of the kitchen.

* * *

Punk kneeled on the bed, hands resting on his thighs as he'd been instructed, wondering what John had in store for him tonight. John came into the room, his presence so strong and commanding that Punk automatically lowered his head. But John crossed to the bed and put a finger under his chin, tipping his head up so that their eyes met.

"You told me before that you were ready to wear my collar. Do you still feel that way?"

Punk's eyes widened and his heart started to pound. Was it about to happen right now? "Yes, Sir. I do."

"And you understand that if you accept it you are truly mine. I will be the one in control in this relationship. But in return I promise to always take care of you. And if you ever need or want anything, all you have to do is ask."

Punk nodded. He loved the way that John took care of him, it was something he hadn't even realized he needed, but now that he had it he didn't ever want to be without it. "I understand." He watched as John pulled a slim leather jewelry box from his back pocket. When he opened it Punk saw what the collar looked like but he didn't dare touch it. It wasn't his to touch until John gave it to him. The collar was dark red leather. Boldly etched across the front was CENA. And Punk noticed immediately that it was written in the same old English lettering as the Straight Edge tattoo on his stomach. It was clean, simple, and beautiful. And Punk wanted it on his neck now. He looked up as John spoke.

"Phil, I wanted you for so long that when I finally had you I could barely believe it. And watching you give up control to me is the most perfect thing I've ever seen. Your submission is so deep and real. So I'm asking you to wear my collar. To truly be my submissive."

"Yes, please Sir. I want to be yours."

John smiled and took the collar from its box. Throwing the box aside John's hands came up and placed the collar around Punk's neck. When Punk heard the clasp click closed, a shiver went through him. That sense of belonging that he'd been feeling was magnified a thousand times now. He belonged to John and that knowledge made him feel safe and secure. He wasn't alone anymore. Punk touched his fingers to his collar and looked up at John. "I belong to you," he said.

John nodded, a heady mixture of victory, desire, happiness, and possession swirling through him. He grabbed Punk by his upper arms and pulled him up against him. "Yeah, baby. You belong to me." Then he kissed Punk. John took complete control, the thought that Punk was his racing through his brain. Everything John was feeling as Punk accepted his collar came through in his kiss. The kiss was hard, John smashing their lips together, thrusting his tongue into his sub's mouth. When they broke apart, Punk look dazed for a moment. He blinked slowly, then he bit his lip as a gleeful look came over his face.

"Can I go see what it looks like?"

John ran his finger along the new strap of leather around Punk's throat. "Go ahead." Punk hopped off the bed and practically ran into the bathroom to the big mirror there. John had to smile at how eager his sub was. He followed him in at a slower pace. Punk was in front of the mirror, his chin lifted as he traced his fingers over the lettering on the collar. He had expressions of pleasure and disbelief on his face. John came up behind him and wrapped his hand around his throat just under the collar. "You are so beautiful. Even more so with my collar around your neck."

John kissed Punk on his shoulder, his other arm coming up to wrap around Punk's middle. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead along the side of Punk's neck, feeling the leather of the collar against his skin. Punk was his now. He'd finally claimed the man that he wanted above all others. Who accepted his need to dominate, and gave him his submission so freely in return. John took a deep breath, inhaling Punk's scent. He would do whatever it took to keep his sub happy, because he was never letting him go.

John lifted his head and turned Punk's face to his enough that they could kiss over his shoulder. His let his hand drift down Punk's belly until he reached his cock. He was already hard and John grasped him and started to stroke. Punk moaned into his mouth and started to turn to face him completely but John shook his head. His sub immediately stopped and watched John, waiting to see what he wanted. John brought two fingers to Punk's lips. His lover opened up and sucked them in, still looking at John over his shoulder.

He pulled his fingers from Punk's mouth and trailed them down to Punk's ass, slipping them between his cheeks. He sought and found Punk's hole, teasing and tapping against it, making Punk squirm before he finally pushed one in. John worked his finger in deep, thrusting slowly and maintaining the same pace with his stroking. He tried to take his time, but he was impatient to be inside his lover, to really feel him for the first time. So when Punk's breath started to come faster, John quickly pushed a second finger in, scissoring them to get Punk's tight channel ready for his cock. Punk started moaning and John couldn't wait any longer. He removed his fingers from Punk and unzipped his pants. His own breath starting to come faster, he lined himself up to Punk's sweet hole and drove inside.

Punk gasped. "You're not wearing-"

John cut him off. "No more condoms, baby. I won't have anything between us again." He started to thrust. "From now on when I take you I'm gonna fill you up with my cum." He sucked Punk's earlobe into his mouth and bit down before releasing him. John whispered in Punk's ear. "I've been dreaming about coming in your ass, watching my cum slide down those pretty thighs cuz you can't hold it all. Don't you want to feel your Dom's cum bursting inside you, thick and hot?" Punk's head dropped back against his shoulder as he moaned yes and he started to let his eyes close.

"No, Phil. Open your eyes. I want you to see what I see when I fuck you."

Punk obeyed and looked. What he saw was himself, naked while John stood behind him fully clothed. Being undressed while John wasn't made him feel vulnerable and exposed, but in a way that was arousing instead of scary. John shook his head but kept up his slow thrusting.

"You don't see it. Don't see why I think you're so beautiful." John let go of his cock and Punk whined in protest, but he shut up when John slapped him sharply on the thigh. He apologized and was rewarded when John guided him to wrap his own hand around his shaft. John moved their hands together on Punk's cock before he let go. Punk wasn't going to assume that John wanted him to keep going by himself so he looked at his Dom for permission. When he got a nod he continued stroking himself at the slow steady pace that John had set.

"What I see is this warm sexy flush that spreads up your neck to your face." Punk tried to concentrate on John's low voice whispering in his ear, but it was hard with the way John was still pumping inside him. Goosebumps broke out on his skin as John's lightly brushed his fingers over each place on Punk he described. "I see your lips parted as you gasp, that lip ring shining and daring me to run my tongue over it. Those green eyes hazy and dazed with arousal, especially as you start holding back your orgasm until I give you permission to come. I love to watch a sweat break out on your skin until I just want to lick all over your chest and your soft, sweet belly. I admire each and every one of your tattoos." He smiled. "And you know I love these," John said flicking his fingers over his nipple rings.

Punk couldn't tear his eyes away from John's blue gaze as his Dom told him all those things. When John had told him that he was beautiful before he hadn't really thought too much of it. They'd just been words to him. But now… now he was seeing what John saw.

John started thrusting faster inside him. "Stroke yourself faster baby. I want you to see yourself come."

Punk followed John's instructions pumping his fist quickly, his hand sliding slick and wet on his cock from the pre-cum dripping from his slit. His breath came in sharp gasps as he felt his orgasm rising.

"That's it, baby. Come for me. And don't you dare close your eyes."

John closed his mouth around the skin just under Punk's collar, sucking hard. Punk gasped as John bit him, his cock jerked in response, and he was coming. He kept stroking and John kept thrusting while Punk fought to keep his eyes open. He saw the flush on his skin darken. Saw his body shuddering – hips thrusting forwards, his eyes heavy-lidded as he stared at himself in the mirror. Watching himself orgasm with John watching as well was one of the most erotic experiences of Punk's life. His whole body tingled and his stomach clenched hard as he pulsed into his hand again and again. Finally he was spent. His hand stopped moving and so did John. He was breathing hard as John grasped his hand and lifted it to his mouth. John's tongue came out and licked at Punk's fingers, catching his cum and swallowing it down. Punk watched him, his eyes gone wide, the sight making him hard again. But John didn't clean it all. Instead he smashed their hands together, twining their fingers before kissing the back of Punk's hand. John lowered their joined hands as his other came up and wrapped around Punk's throat. He started to move again.

"You're mine now, Phil."

Punk whispered yes in response, his brain starting to focus on nothing but the feel of John moving thick and hard inside him.

"Let me hear you say it."

It was a command, and Punk heard and responded even through the haze of pleasure in his head. "I'm yours, Sir."

John released their clasped hands and grabbed onto Punk's hip, squeezing tight and holding him steady as he started to thrust faster and deeper inside him. He pushed Punk forward with the hand at his neck, bending him down until Punk braced his hands on the counter. "Say it again."

"I'm yours, Sir. Only yours." John started pounding into him, his hips thudding against Punk's, the head of his cock stabbing his spot with each thrust. Pleasure radiated throughout Punk's body from the spot and he lowered himself even further, silently encouraging John's hard, forceful thrusts.

"I own you, Phil."

Punk dropped his chin to his chest. It should feel wrong to take pleasure in John saying that to him. But hell, John _did_ own him. He owned every reaction of Punk's body. Owned him so much that he simply closed his eyes and accepted whatever John chose to do to him. John knew what was best and Punk just wanted to take him into his body. Punk finally dragged his eyes back up to look in the mirror. He saw John watching him, a look of fierce possession on his face. A shiver chased down Punk's spine to be the object of such focus from another person. Yet at the same time, Punk loved the fact that that look was for him. Their eyes remained locked as John pumped into him with all his strength. A small, almost smug smile curled John's lips.

"You love this don't you? Me fucking you. Owning you." Punk felt John's fingers dig into his hip. "Giving you no choice but to take it."

Punk nodded, gasping for breath, his cock insanely hard at John's words. He was glad that John didn't ask him to say it out loud, because he didn't think he was capable of speaking right then. His hands curled into fists on the countertop as his balls started to tighten, his body trembling with his approaching orgasm.

John thrust into Punk again and again, his naked cock firmly gripped in his tight heat. It felt incredible to feel Punk's velvety channel directly on the skin of his cock. "About to come for you, baby. Gonna fill this tight little ass up with my cum." He looked at Punk as he spoke. John could read it in Punk's face, could practically hear him thinking that his sub wanted to come too. Reaching down he grabbed Punk's hard shaft, stroking him fast and squeezing the head. "Come with me, Phil," he ordered. They started to come together, Punk's ass clenching around his cock heightening his pleasure until he shouted, "Fuck, Phil! Feels so good to come inside you." John ground his hips hard against Punk's, pushing deep within him as he came inside his submissive for the very first time. He felt as though he were marking and claiming Punk as his own in yet another way and he loved it. And from the way Punk was pushing back against him, moaning that it felt so good and so hot, Punk loved it too.

Finally both of their bodies had nothing left to give. John pulled Punk up until his lover's back rested against his chest, his dark head lolling on his shoulder. John withdrew from Punk and just as he'd said a trail of his cum slid down Punk's leg. John dipped his fingers in it then rubbed them against Punk's lips. He turned his lover around and kissed him slowly, sucking his lip into his mouth, the two of them sharing the taste of John's cum. John's arms came around Punk's waist, holding on to him as Punk relaxed and sagged against John's body.

"You want to shower?"

Punk shook his head. "No, just wanna lay down with you."

John lifted him up and Punk's legs came around his waist almost automatically. He felt his sub's soft breath against his neck and smiled as he walked them over to the bed. Punk was always so sweet after he'd come. It was so different from the way he usually was and John instinctively knew that even though he wasn't Punk's first, that he was the only one that had ever seen him like this.

* * *

The next morning, John lay propped up on one elbow, watching Punk sleep in the pre-dawn light. He traced his finger over his collar on Punk's neck still slightly in awe that Punk had allowed him to place it there. Punk started to wake up and John noticed the first thing he did was touch his fingers to his collar. He looked at him over his shoulder and said good morning, his voice husky with sleep. John leaned down and kissed him gently saying good morning back.

"What are you doing awake so early?" Punk asked.

He shrugged. "Just thinking about what makes me happy."

"Oh, yeah? Well what makes you happy?"

John kissed Punk again. "The things that I love."

"Really? Name some of those things."

"I love seeing my collar around your neck." John pulled Punk over onto his back. He moved on top of him until his hips rested between Punk's warm thighs. Reaching down he grabbed his cock and started to push into his lover. Punk was still stretched from all the times they'd had sex last night and John slid into him nice and easy. "I love being inside you." John moved his hips slowly, everything around them quiet, the only sounds the smooth rustling of sheets, Punk's soft panting breaths, and John's own low voice. "I love being with you." John laid his forehead against Punk's and looked into his eyes. "I love you."

Punk inhaled sharply. His hands came up from where they'd rested on John's back to cup his cheeks. "I love the way you control me. Love how you take care of me." He moaned as John started stroking his cock. "Love how you claimed me. And I love you too."

John was so pleased that Punk returned his feelings. He hadn't told Punk he loved him just so he'd say it back, but he was really glad that he had. John kissed Punk fiercely trying to show just how deep his love was with that one kiss. But of course that was impossible. So he kept moving, reaching for one of Punk's legs and wrapping it around his waist. He kept the pace slow, wanting to savor this moment between them. John leaned down and licked at Punk's neck, his tongue stroking the skin below his collar. He sucked the tender flesh into his mouth and he felt Punk's cock swell in his hand in response. John didn't want to make either of them wait for their orgasm. He wanted to cum inside his sub as he told him again that he loved him.

Squeezing his hand tighter around Punk's cock, he started stroking him harder, though he didn't increase his speed. But he knew what would set his love off, so he squeezed Punk's cock head. And just like he knew he would, Punk whispered that he needed to come. "Go ahead, baby. Come for me." He tightened his hand again and Punk's neck arched, his head pressing back into the pillow as he moaned softly. John felt his warm cum streaming over his fist and let himself go as well. He pressed deep into Punk, shooting his cum inside his love's accepting body as he whispered against his lips. "I love you, Phil."

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed Punk getting John's collar! But boy these guys sure are moving fast in their relationship. Maybe too fast … And bad John-boy! Perhaps if he were Straight Edge he wouldn't be in such a pickle! Lol. Thanks for reading and please review with your thoughts and constructive criticisms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and know no one from the WWE. Which sucks.

**Warning**: Gay sex, cursing.

**A/N**: Nothing but smut in this short filler chapter. Ye be warned.

* * *

Punk stood at the sink rinsing dishes to put in the dishwasher. They'd just finished dinner after a late evening swim. John was on the phone talking to Vince so Punk had gotten up to clean the kitchen himself. John came back into the room just as he was saying goodbye to Vince. Punk smiled without turning around as John's arms immediately came around his waist and his lips brushed the skin above his collar. All day John had been like that. Unable to keep his hands off Punk, constantly touching him, holding him by the throat as he kissed him, tugging him closer with a finger hooked under his collar as he whispered I love you in his ear. It made Punk stupid happy. He leaned back into John's embrace, tilting his head to the side to allow John easier access to his throat. "What did Vince want?"

John sucked at his pulse point before he asked, "Who?" in a distracted whisper.

Punk laughed. "Vince. Mr. McMahon. Big brash guy who owns his own universe and signs your paychecks."

John chuckled and stopped kissing Punk's neck. "Oh, him." He turned Punk around. "He wanted to talk about Money In the Bank. Apparently, I'm going to be in the RAW ladder match."

Punk's eyes widened. "You? They're putting _you_ in a ladder match?"

John frowned teasingly. "Hey, just exactly what are you trying to say with that tone of voice?"

Punk grinned. "Let's just say you're a very grounded wrestler. You've got one top rope move, which I haven't seen in months by the way."

"I'll leave all the high-flying to you." John smoothed his hands up Punk's sides. "Especially since you look so pretty standing on the top turnbuckle, with this tight little body stretched to the sky." John watched as an adorable blush stained Punk's cheeks.

"I am not pretty. I have a beard for Pete's sake," he groused.

John smiled at his sub's pouting. "You are. Do you want me to get you in front of the mirror and tell you why again?"

Punk lowered his eyes. "Maybe."

John tightened his arms around Punk's waist pulling him up against him. He thought about telling Punk what it did to him when he lowered his head or eyes in submission like that – but he wanted to keep that as his little secret. He pressed his lips to his lover's, sweeping his tongue inside. John barely noticed the cold water dripping down his back as Punk's arms came around his neck. John deepened the kiss, pressing Punk's back against the sink as he devoured his sweet mouth. When he felt Punk's hips moving softly against his he ended the kiss. "Forget these dishes. Come shower with me."

Punk reached behind him to turn off the faucet that had been running the whole time. "I guess we should shower together to save water, seeing as how we were so wasteful just now."

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly why I want you to shower with me. Water conservation."

* * *

Punk leaned back against John's chest as they sat up in bed. He touched his fingers to his collar as John refastened it around his neck after their shower. "Why did you choose red?"

John nuzzled his neck. "Because it's your favorite color."

Punk looked at his Dom over his shoulder. "It is. But how did you know that?"

"Ummm… because most of your ring gear has red in it. Your entrance video is saturated in red and your last three shirts all have red. You even changed the Xs on your wrist tape to red."

Punk grinned. "Oh yeah. I guess it was pretty obvious." He turned back around and changed the subject. "So if you're in the Money In the Bank match I guess that means we'll be working together again soon."

"Yeah. You okay with that?"

"Fuck yeah! We put on some hella good matches last year. Of course it was my best in the world technique that carried you and your five moves of doom."

John laughed. "Whatever, smark."

"So are you ready to be The Champ again?"

"What makes you think I'm going to be?" John asked.

Punk snorted. "No one has ever failed to successfully cash in a briefcase. I don't think creative is gonna have Super Cena be the first one to fail." He shrugged. "But it's cool, I'm sure they'll write us fighting back and forth over the title and I'll get it back."

"You never know, maybe they will have me lose. I've been champion plenty of times before."

Something in John's voice made Punk go still and he thought back to Piper's warning. "John," he began. Then he stopped and got up off the bed.

John looked at him confused as he grabbed his hand and started pulling him from the bed. "What are you doing?"

"You said that in the bedroom you were in control, but you wouldn't restrict what I do outside of it, right?"

John nodded his head warily. "Yeah, to an extent."

Punk heard that qualifier but he let it go for right now. "Then I need you to come with me." John finally got up from the bed and Punk pulled him into the hallway. Once they were out there Punk let go of John's hand and crossed his arms over his chest. "What the fuck, John? You'd better not try to get creative to have you lose just so I can keep the belt."

"What's wrong with that? Like I said I've had that belt more often than not. I don't need another title reign right now."

Punk started to get pissed. He didn't need or want help from John or anyone else. Everything he'd accomplished he'd done on his own and he planned to keep it that way. "That's not the fucking point! If they're gonna keep the title on me I want it to be because they think I'm doing a good job representing the company as champion, not because my goddamn all-powerful boyfriend told them to let me keep it."

John's eyes narrowed as Punk just about sneered when he called him his all-powerful boyfriend. Like he'd said, he would allow Punk his freedom to an extent. But that did not include being disrespectful when talking to his Dom. "Watch it, baby," he said with just a hint of dominance in his voice.

Punk lowered his arms to his sides and blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to be that guy who uses you or anyone else for a step up."

"I know you would never do that. It's just one of the reasons why I love you." John brushed a kiss across Punk's lips. His sub didn't pull away but he didn't respond either. John refused to let it go. "Don't pout, Punk. If you want the mighty Five Moves of Doom to win the belt that bad then I'll start practicing my 'The Champ is here' speeches."

Punk huffed a laugh. "I didn't say that. Just let creative decide. On their own."

"Will do. Now give me a kiss." Punk's lips brushed against his in a ticklish kiss as he was smiling at John's teasing. "Do I need to step back into the bedroom to be your Dom again?"

Punk shook his head the smile still tugging at his lips. "No, Sir."

"I want you to go down to the kitchen and fix us a big helping of what you find in the freezer."

John watched as Punk turned and went downstairs. He felt a slight twinge of guilt. He'd already told Vince on the phone earlier that he didn't want to win after he cashed in on Punk. He knew his proud boyfriend would never ask him to do that, but John wanted his love to keep the strap a little longer, earning himself a spot in the record books for the length of his title reign and for being the only champ to keep his belt after a cash in. But he understood how Punk felt, so he wouldn't use his influence beyond what he'd already done in convincing Vince to have him lose at RAW 1000. He'd do as Punk asked and let creative decide.

Down in the kitchen Punk was cracking up as he stood there with the freezer door open. Clearly John had listened to every word of his podcast with Colt cuz there was a big ole tub of Chunky Monkey ice cream sitting front and center in the freezer.

* * *

On their last day at John's house before they had to head out for the house show schedule Punk was in the living room doing his stretches. He got down into a lunge position and when he turned to switch sides he saw John sitting on the couch watching him. He had his headphones on so he hadn't realized John had come into the room. He smirked and took his headphones off. "Make sure you leave a dollar in the tip box."

"I would but you forgot to put the box out," John responded in a low voice.

Punk kneeled and then pushed one leg back to stretch his calf. "Damn. Well maybe you can tuck some money into the waistband of my shorts."

"That's gonna be hard to do."

Punk switched legs. "Really? Why is that?"

"Because I want you to take your clothes off. Right now."

Punk brought his leg back in so that he was kneeling again. After looking at John to see that he was serious, his hands automatically reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. He thought for a moment about how quickly he followed John's orders, how easily he slipped into his submissive role. It felt more natural than any other relationship he'd ever been in, whether it was with a man or a woman, top or bottom. He was done taking his clothes off pretty quickly since he'd only been wearing a tee, boxers, and basketball shorts.

"Come here."

Goosebumps rose on his skin as John issued his order in that low voice. Punk started to push himself to his feet but then John spoke again.

"I told you to come here. I didn't tell you to get up."

Punk realized immediately what John wanted him to do and he didn't even hesitate. He sucked his lip ring into his mouth, his eyes locked on John's as he started to crawl on all fours over to his Dom. By the time he reached him, his cock was already hard in anticipation for whatever John wanted. John opened his legs and Punk kneeled up between them. He waited for John's next command but John only rubbed his thumb over his lip ring.

"Where's your tongue piercing?" he asked.

"I don't wear it all the time anymore. It was _suggested_ that I'd come across better as a championship contender if I had a few less piercings. It was worth it to me to get the title, so I took it out. Same with my ear and nipple rings. I've had it long enough that it won't close up immediately. I put it back in when I'm home every week to keep it from closing up."

"Hmmm… I think I'd like you to have it in when you're with me."

Punk smiled devilishly. "And why is that?"

John pressed his thumb down on Punk's lip opening his mouth slightly. "I've heard that getting head from someone with a tongue piercing can be … nice."

Punk sucked John's thumb into his mouth for a moment before releasing him slowly. "You've never been with anybody with a tongue bar?"

John shook his head. "No. I pretty much avoided all guys with tattoos and piercings." Punk looked hurt for a moment so John continued on quickly. "I couldn't because they reminded me of you. And I decided if I couldn't have the real thing, then I wouldn't date any guys with any sort of body art."

A surprised expression crossed Punk's face. "How long have you felt like that?"

"Punk, I've wanted you since I first saw you. I came to like you as a person when we got to work together. And I started to fall in love with you the day I watched you struggle to finally accept your submission to me."

Punk laid his head on John's thigh, his heart thumping hard. Out of all the crappy relationships he'd had with people who were selfish and needy and as much as he had been an asshole to those same partners, he'd managed to fall into a relationship with someone who made him feel as though he were the only person on earth who mattered. Punk laughed shakily, his throat tight with emotion as he spoke. "Jesus, John. You're not one for playing things close to the chest are you?"

John's finger lifted his chin until their eyes met. "I won't ever hide what I'm feeling from you. And I expect you to do the same for me."

"I promise that I won't." Then he smiled. "So do you want me to wait until I put my piercing back in before I give you another blow job?"

"I don't think so, baby. I want you to suck me right now. And make it good." John's lips curled up in a half-smile. "So I can compare later."

Punk looked forward to the challenge. He pulled John's sweat pants, the only thing he was wearing, down and off. John's naked cock lay against his belly, big and thick and hard, the mushroom shaped head already leaking pearly drops of pre-cum. Punk wanted to suck him down immediately but he chose instead to draw it out – to make it good like John had ordered. With that in mind he kissed his way up John's thighs, dragging his tongue across the smooth skin stretched tight over hard muscles. He let the scruff of his beard brush over the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs and blew a soft breath across John's heavy sac. His Dom let out a pleased moan as a shiver ran through his big body. Encouraged by that reaction, Punk licked a long wet trail up John's cock, his mouth open, hot heavy breaths escaping him as he became more aroused. When he reached the head, he flattened his tongue, licking the surface like it was a lollipop several times before finally sucking down the hard shaft. He moaned to have John's thick heat filling his mouth.

Looking up, Punk saw John relaxed back against the couch with one arm folded carelessly under his neck, his eyes closed, a small pleased smile on his full lips. Punk's bobbing slowed almost to a stop as he took in the sexy picture John made. But he must have paused for too long because John's other hand lazily came up to the top of Punk's head and pressed him down again, reminding him of his task. Punk resumed his sucking, glad when John left his hand resting on his head, liking the weight of it there. Closing his eyes, he focused only on bringing John pleasure, his brain and his heart in sync in wanting to service his Dom. He gave it everything he had, alternating between lapping at the broad head of John's cock and slowly sucking the pulsing shaft as far down as he could go. He brought his hand up to fondle the taut balls, rolling them in his palm and squeezing lightly. And as he pleasured his Dom, Punk started to get so aroused his own cock and balls were hard and tight and he squirmed on his knees, breathing heavily through his nose as he started to suck faster. John's hips rose once, pushing his cock further down his throat and Punk moaned at the feeling. But that wasn't enough, he wanted more. He wanted to feel his Dom taking control. Before he could stop it a plaintive whine slid up his throat. John tugged on his ear and he looked up to see John watching him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"You need something, baby?" Punk managed a nod even while he kept sucking. But then John's hand's tightened in his hair and pulled him off his cock.

"Ask for what you want little sub."

Punk licked his lips, sucking his lip ring in hesitation before he told John what he wanted. "I want you to fuck my mouth. I - … I love it when you do that."

"Is that right?"

Punk nodded as much as John's tight grip on his hair would allow. "And what if I wanted you to keep on just the way you are, without any help from me?"

Punk spoke without any hesitation that time. "Then I would do it. I'll do whatever you want, Sir."

John gave that same nearly smug smile that Punk had seen in the mirror the other night. "Perfect little sub," he whispered before pressing Punk back down.

Punk opened his mouth and took him in, ready to pick up where he left off. But John's hand on his head held him still as his Dom's hips started to move. Punk moaned and relaxed his mouth letting John take over. His lover thrust into him hard and deep at the same time he pressed his head down, forcing Punk to take his cock further down his throat than he ever had before. But Punk didn't care, as always he loved John taking control. John's other hand came up to Punk's head, those big palms squeezing tight as though he were making sure Punk didn't try to escape. But he had no intention of going anywhere. On his knees with John's cock in his throat was right where he wanted to be. His moans came with greater frequency, and he surprised himself as they grew sluttier and sluttier with every second John fucked into his mouth. He looked up at his Dom to see his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck standing out prominently. John's breathing was harsh as he talked to Punk in that dirty way that he loved.

"That's it baby, suck my cock. Gonna fuck your throat raw." He sped up his thrusts and Punk tried to relax even more and not choke. "Mmmm… I love you naked and on your knees, my own personal cock sucker. Is that what you are, Phil?"

John words made him feel fucking dirty and horny, but Punk could only moan in response. His body was desperate to be touched; he rubbed his hands over his own chest and thighs but carefully stayed away from his cock.

John groaned deep in his throat. "I love it when you moan like that. You're about to make me come."

Punk could tell from the way John's cock started to pulse and he readied himself for it. John's hips shot up hard one last time and then he was spilling on Punk's tongue. He was surprised when he heard, "Don't swallow it, baby. Hold it in your mouth." Punk did as ordered, fighting his natural urge to swallow. Suddenly John pulled him up roughly so that he was straddling John's lap. John grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down into a kiss. Punk opened his lips and John's tongue thrust inside. They shared John's essence, kissing and swallowing until every bit was consumed.

Punk writhed against John, needing to come and wanting John inside him when he did. Clearly John wanted inside him as well because he broke their dirty kiss to whisper, "Stroke me, Phil. Get me hard again so I can fuck that ass." Punk gave a choked cry as he immediately reached down and took John into his hand, pumping swiftly, crazy relieved when in no time John was stiff and ready once more. At John's urging he rose up and fit John against his back entrance. Before he could blink John had pushed his hips up at the same time he pulled Punk's down, seating his cock deep inside.

Punk gasped. Even though John was slick from Punk's mouth, they'd had a lot of sex over the past few days and Punk was sore. His entry had hurt. He tried to keep his face smooth and not wince, but John saw.

"Don't hide from me Punk. If it hurts we'll stop."

"No! I mean yes it hurts. But please don't leave me. Please fuck me, Sir!" He sensed that John was about to stop anyway so he wrapped his arms around those broad heavy shoulders as he tightened his inner muscles trying to trap him inside. He practically sobbed into John's ear his body was so flushed with arousal and desperate for release. "Please, Sir. Fuck me. I don't care if it hurts. Just wanna feel my Dom moving inside me. I need it. I need _you_."

John groaned. He couldn't resist his sub's begging, especially since he wasn't usually so vocal. John knew he was the one with the dirty mouth. So he started to move inside Punk's tight heat. "You want me to fuck you? Want me to make you come?"

Punk swallowed hard. "_God_, yes. _Please_."

John kept his thrusts slow and shallow. "You'll have to do something for me in return," he said.

Punk nodded frantically. "Yes. Anything. I'll do it."

"Let me fuck you somewhere public, wherever I choose." Punk's eyes popped wide for a moment. John simply watched him as he waited for an answer, never changing the rhythm of his movements. Finally Punk agreed adding, "I trust you, Sir." John smiled in triumph. He had Punk's trust. He'd known it – but it felt good to hear him say it. John would take care not to break that trust and there would be nothing that Punk wouldn't do for him.

John grasped Punk's slim hip bones and started to increase his speed. He tried not to thrust too hard, knowing his sub was sore. But Punk was so hot and so tight he could barely think beyond anything but the pleasure he felt. And with the way Punk was slamming his hips down to meet his every thrust, John was hanging on to his control by the slimmest of threads. His jaw clenched tight, he tried to get Punk to slow down. "Ease up, baby. I don't want to hurt you."

Punk shook his head wildly. "I can't," he gasped. "Have to keep moving. Please, please don't make me stop," he begged.

For the first time ever John let go of all his control with Punk. Catching his wrists in his grip, he yanked Punk down until his sub's neck was within reach. John caught both a little of the collar and Punk's throat between his teeth and bit down. He let his sub bounce on him like he wanted, and at the same time he fucked up into that velvety sheath. Their bodies found a matching rhythm, both men groaning as they practically fought for an orgasm. Overcome with the urge to have Punk beneath him, John wrapped an arm around his lover's back and twisted, slamming Punk down onto the couch and falling on top of him. He threw both of Punk's legs up over his shoulders, barely breaking their punishing rhythm as he did so. Sweat ran down into his eyes and he knew he was rutting over Punk like a damn animal, but he couldn't stop. His hips just kept surging against his lover's again and again as he spoke from between gritted teeth. "Goddamnit, Phil! You're making me crazy. I'm gonna come so fucking hard." Punk's hands slapped onto his back holding on as he pushed his hips up to meet John's rough thrusts. John's groan was so deep it was almost a growl as he worked his cock inside his sub, completely lost to everything but the grinding sweaty sex taking place on that couch.

Finally John grabbed Punk's hips and held him still as he ground his cock deep into his channel pressing hard against his spot. "Holy, fuck!" Punk gasped, his blunt fingernails digging into John's back. John looked down at Punk. He saw that his sub was completely overtaken by their rough passion. His black hair stuck up in wet spikes, lips parted as he panted and his pupils were so wide he couldn't see any green. "Go head and scratch me baby, don't hold back." Almost before he finished speaking he felt nails scratch down his back and he hissed at the sweet pain. John kept his hips tight against Punk's while pulsing forward so that he continued to tap that sensitive spot. Reaching down he grasped his lover's straining cock in a grip that he knew was just this shy of painful and pumped. Punk's head started to thrash back and forth on the couch. "I'm gonna come, Sir," he said in a desperate voice. John tightened his grip the tiniest amount and pushed in harder. "Come, goddamnit," he snarled. "Come and milk me dry." John pulled his cock almost all the way out of Punk's ass and then rammed back in, striking his spot dead on. "Fuck!" Punk screamed. And then he was coming, his orgasm fountaining over John's fist, his walls clamping down on John's cock so hard it almost hurt.

John started thrusting again, faster and faster, feeling his orgasm strengthening and rising. His skin felt stretched tight over his bones and his thighs, his belly, shit even his ears tingled. Then he too was coming, coming so hard his vision blurred white and his breath hitched in his chest as he shouted his lover's name. And Punk was still in the throes of his own orgasm, his tight channel squeezing John and milking him of every last drop.

John collapsed onto Punk although he knew he couldn't stay like that for long since he was so heavy. "I'm sorry baby. I shouldn't have lost control like that. We'll get you into a warm bath." He pulled out, cursing under his breath when he saw Punk give a small wince. "And no more sex for a while. I mean it." He sat up and Punk followed.

"Don't apologize. I loved it. The small amount of discomfort I'm feeling is worth it." He bit his lip and looked down, then looked back up at John through his dark lashes. "Anything you do to me is worth it."

John buried his face in Punk's neck for a moment. He felt like he'd failed his sub with his loss of control, but here was Punk telling him how much he loved it. "I don't deserve you," he said.

Punk laughed. "That is definitely the other way around."

John got up, pulling Punk with him. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one."

He pushed Punk in front of him as they walked up the stairs to his bedroom. His eyes were riveted to his lover's lithe frame, taking in all the marks he'd left over the past two days before slipping down to see his cum sliding down those thighs. When Punk reached the top of the staircase, John stopped him with a hand on his hip. Punk turned around to see what was wrong, but John had already dropped to his knees on the step below. Holding Punk's hips gently this time, he stroked his tongue up his thigh, lapping at him like a cat until he'd cleaned all of his essence from both legs. Then he traced his tongue just inside the shadowed crevice of Punk's ass, catching what he could there, but going no further. He refused to cause Punk any more pain, no matter how much he said he enjoyed it. So when Punk's hips started to push back against his face he stood up. "I just had to do that," he said hoarsely in answer to Punk's questioning gaze. "But that's it. Let's go."

In the big spa tub John sat with his back against the wall of the tub with Punk, as usual, cradled between his thighs. He had a big sponge in his hand and he used it to sluice warm water over Punk's chest, shoulders, and back. John was gratified to see Punk sliding down a little further into the water as he relaxed and rested his dark head on John's shoulder. Then he tilted his face to John's.

"Can I have a kiss?"

John lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly over Punk's. He pressed their lips together softly and when Punk's mouth opened with a sweet little sigh, John just barely danced his tongue inside. Punk's eyes had drifted closed during the kiss and when John ended it, they stayed that way.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm sleepy."

John tightened his arms around him. "Go ahead and rest. I'll hold you up and get us out of here before the water gets cold."

"I love you, John," he said as he started to fade into sleep.

John kissed his temple. "I love you too."

* * *

John finished checking to make sure the house was locked up and then joined Punk who waited with their bags by the front door. He tucked his finger under Punk's collar and pulled him in close for a kiss. Then he pulled slightly back. "I'm sorry, baby, but it's time to take this off." Surprise flashed across his sub's face as though he'd forgotten he couldn't wear his collar in public, followed quickly by a cross between ticked off and pouting. John hid a smile, pleased that Punk didn't want to take it off. "I promise you can have it back as soon as we're alone in our room together."

Punk bowed his head a bit to allowing John to open the clasp. When the weight of his collar fell from his neck he felt a little bit as though he'd been cut loose and he didn't like it. He brought his hand up to John's chest, his fingers curling into the neckline of his t-shirt. "John, I…" he stopped, not even sure what he was about to say.

"It's okay, Phil. You're still completely mine."

"I know. It's just…" He stopped again, the fingers of his other hand touching his throat, a little thrown by how much he already missed that thick leather strap that proclaimed him as John's. "I guess I just didn't realize how it would feel to go back out in public and pretend to be annoyed by Super Cena when I really just want to tell every motherfucker out there that I'm yours."

John laughed. "Well you can't do that. Although I admit I'm looking forward to hearing the creative ways you tell our co-workers to mind their own goddamn business once we come out at work. Now close your eyes and I'll give you a present.

"It's not a Cenation shirt is it? Cuz I don't look good in green. Makes my skin look sallow." Punk heard a metallic jingling before John spoke.

"Keep it up and I'll make you wear nothing but that shirt for the next week whenever we're alone."

Punk shut his mouth. He really wouldn't mind wearing John's shirt but he knew John would probably come up with something inventive to go along with that. He felt the kiss of cool metal against his chest and throat along with the brush of John's fingers against the back of his neck. At John's command he opened his eyes and looked down. Around his neck was a ball chain like the one that held John's dog tags but it was shorter. Attached to it was a silver **X**. He looked at John who nodded his head at the pendant.

"Turn it over."

He did and saw **JOHN** inscribed up one leg of the **X** and **CENA** down the other. John touched the pendant with one broad finger. "Anybody looking at it will just think it represents Straight Edge. But you and I will know it also represents my ownership of my pretty little sub."

A sense of relief swept through him and he blurted out, "I fucking love you John." John's blue eyes rose from the pendant and focused on his. "I love you too baby," he said. Punk pressed forward and kissed his Dom briefly. "Thank you, Sir." He gave an almost embarrassed laugh. "I didn't know I would need that connection to you so badly. But this..." He gestured at his new public collar. "This makes me feel better."

John wrapped his arms around Punk, holding him close to whisper in his ear. "I told you, Phil. I will _always_ take care of you."

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: So that was a brief interlude to show them all lovey-dovey (and crazed with passion) after Punk's collaring. I felt it was needed before I jump back into the rest of the story. Hope you don't mind! Thanks for reading and as always I hope to see your reviews with comments and suggestions. =)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and know no one from the WWE. Boo.

**Warning**: Cursing, m/m smutty slash, bondage

**A/N**: Thank you to everyone who reviews – especially the regular crew! You all are awesome. Makes me wanna keep on writing. And if you haven't done so, free to chime in with your opinions. We're all nice here and we won't bite. =)

* * *

"What the hell?!"

That wasn't usually the reaction Punk got from women when he took his shirt off. But this woman was gay. And a make-up artist. Who had to get him ready for tonight's house show. And she was currently staring at all the marks on his body, none of which was from wrestling. Punk knew each and every one of them. Finger shaped bruises on his hips. Reddened marks on his wrists – although those were barely visible due to his tattoos. Two bite marks and a hickey on his neck. Another hickey on his belly right below his Straight Edge tattoo. And his thighs … well John had gone a little crazy on what he'd confessed was his favorite part of Punk's body. Oh and of course his throat was chafed slightly from the stiffness of his new collar. But fuck whoever had a problem with it, cuz she would not be covering up that particular mark.

She was still looking at him in shock so he shrugged. "I had a really great couple of days off."

Sally pursed her lips. "I don't even want to know."

Punk smirked. "Please. Like you're a Vestal Virgin." He spoke loud enough so the other woman in the room, who he knew was Sally's girlfriend, could hear. He laughed when he heard a snort. Sally started getting out the tanning lotion and stage makeup she would need to cover up his marks. She gestured at his throat.

"That's a nice necklace. Do you want to take it off so it doesn't get anything on it?"

Punk's hand rose to his pendant, his thumb rubbing over the back of the X. "Nope. Cover it up or work around it." The door opened right as he finished talking and John walked in carrying some sort of gift basket.

"Hello ladies. How's my two favorite make-up artists doing today?"

Punk rolled his eyes as both women giggled and flirted with his charming son of a bitch of a boyfriend. Lisa pointed at the basket in John's hands. "Is that for us?"

"Yes it is. I thought you two deserved a present for all the hard work you do to make us look good on camera." John switched his gaze to Punk. "I mean look at this one." His voice lowered and their eyes locked. "All marked up. I bet he wasn't even thinking of that while he was getting each and every one of those bruises." "_Especially_ all the ones on his legs."

Punk's lips parted and his heart rate sped up. His brain immediately filled with the image of John gripping his raised thigh as those full lips sucked on his skin. John moved closer and for one crazy moment Punk thought John was going to reach out and touch him right in front of the two women. His hands clenched on the chair's armrest to keep him from leaping at his lover. John smirked and Punk groaned inwardly. Fucking John knew exactly what he was doing. Punk decided two could play that game. So as John was thanking the women and backing towards the door he spoke up.

"Hey, Sally. Make sure you leave this mark uncovered." Looking straight at John, he brushed his fingers over the mark left by his collar. "It's my favorite and I don't care who sees it." Punk sucked his lip ring, holding back his own smirk as John's jaw clenched and his eyes blazed bright with passion before his Dom left the room.

Sally cleared her throat. "Woah."

Lisa spoke up. "I'm standing right here, Sally."

Sally cleared her throat again. "Right. That was nice of him to bring us a gift," Sally said. But maybe next time you can just ask him to be a little more careful?"

Punk rubbed his pendant again. "Not even an option."

* * *

Punk walked back out to the monitor area from the makeup room. He passed John who stood talking to a road agent as he went to sit in the back row next to Cody. He had his head bent over his phone as he texted.

"What's up?" said the younger man distractedly.

"Not much." Punk didn't really bother to answer since Cody clearly wasn't paying attention. Besides he was busy watching John. He had to admire the way John managed to be so friendly nearly all the time. That just wasn't in his genetic makeup. And naturally, he was also admiring John's physique. That Cenation shirt might be stupid, but John made it look good the way he filled it out with his broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest. His eyes drifted down to his lover's ass and the term 'bubble-butt' popped into his head. He really did love John's body, and now that they were together he could admit it, instead of hiding his attraction like he used to. Yet as much as he loved John's body his Dom had made sure that Punk knew John loved his just as much, both with the interlude in front of the bathroom mirror and again with the ice cream in bed. He'd never be able to look at a bowl of Chunky Monkey the same again. He was pulled from his daydream when he heard Cody talking to him.

"Well, well, well. That's a nice necklace. I don't think I've ever seen you wear one before. What's so special about this one?"

Punk cut his eyes over to Cody. "Stop fishing."

Cody grinned. "Fine then, tell me. Is that your collar?"

"One of 'em."

Cody let out a whoop. "Congrats, man. Feels good to wear it, don't it?"

"Could you _try_ to keep your damn voice down?"

Cody apologized but he kept on grinning. "Answer the question."

Punk answered with his usual bluntness. "Fuck yeah it does. I even freaked out a bit when he took off the other one before we left his house. And I swear right now I'm about two seconds from going over there and kneeling at his feet in front of everybody back here."

Cody whistled low. "Shit man, you've got it bad. I bet that makes John happy. But don't worry, I'm the same way."

Punk looked at Cody. "How do you deal with it and keep from letting that side of your relationship show when you're in public?"

Cody shrugged. "I can't always. Which is why we get teased so much about how close we are. People may not know what type of relationship we're in, but they do sense something different."

Punk nodded. He'd picked up on that himself before he'd learned of their Dom/sub relationship.

"But other than that it's just through sheer force of will."

Cody said something else, but Punk didn't hear him. Because John was staring at him even though he was still in conversation. From across the room Punk could feel the heat in that blue gaze. He couldn't help but react, his body heating up, his own stare focusing right back on John's.

"You guys haven't come out to everybody, right?"

"Nope."

"And you do realize that the eye fucking I'm witnessing right now between you two _might_ give it away?"

"Yep."

"Do you even care?"

"Nope."

"You two are pathetic," Cody teased.

John broke their eye contact for a moment as he looked back at the road agent. When the guy finished nodding like a bobble head and left John looked right back at him. Then John turned and headed deeper into the backstage area. He hadn't made any gesture towards Punk, but he knew he was expected to follow. Punk stood up.

"Pretend I said something sarcastic and cruel in response and be offended," he joked to Cody. Then he took off to follow John.

* * *

He was walking trying to see where John went when John grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind one of the WWE trailers. He went willingly and immediately accepted John's kiss. But when they broke apart he pointed out, "Anybody walking by will see our feet and know both of us are back here – and standing pretty damn close to one another."

In answer, John picked him up and Punk automatically wrapped his legs around his waist. He felt the rough concrete through his t-shirt as John rested his back against the wall.

John grinned. "Problem solved."

"Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Maybe because you're too busy thinking of ways to tease your Dom?"

Punk snorted. "You started it. You had me ready to jump out of Sally's chair and climb all over you. She said thank you for the gift, but next time just go easier on me. Then I gave them each a gold doubloon to maintain their silence about the Old Champ and the New Champion knocking boots."

John just laughed and then stroked his tongue over the mark on Punk's neck. "I see you really made her leave this alone."

Punk nodded. "I wasn't kidding when I said it's my favorite."

John nuzzled his neck. "I'm glad. I like being able to look at it."

Punk smirked. "I knew you would."

John kissed the smirk off his sub's face. Their tongues tangled together slick and wet as they hid from everyone in the bowels of the arena. His fingers wanted to clench on the smooth thighs he held in his grasp but he just managed to hold himself back. He knew Punk didn't have time to go back to make-up before his match. Besides, he didn't want to tick off Sally after he'd gone through the trouble of buttering her and Lisa up. He hadn't wanted the two annoyed with Punk at the extra work they'd have to do, especially when it was his fault. So no more marks for now. Instead, he let his fingers slip under the edge of Punk's tights, caressing the smooth flesh of his ass. Then he pressed his fingers in deeper to stroke over the soft skin of Punk's sac. His lover gasped into his mouth and pressed his hips against him.

"John, can we … do we have time?"

John shook his head. "No. I meant what I said – no sex for a while."

Punk groaned in frustration. "You're kidding me."

"Nope. Besides I don't think we have time anyway." The words had barely left his mouth when Bryan's music hit – Punk's opponent for the night. Punk groaned again and dropped his feet to the floor.

"I guess I'll see you later."

John stepped back to let him go, calling out as he walked away, "Don't take your frustrations out on Bryan!" He wasn't surprised when Punk turned around to look at him with a gleeful look on his face and then took off running.

* * *

It was the last RAW of June and backstage everybody was hyped up as RAW 1000 got closer and closer. Some of them had gotten to film spots talking about their favorite RAW moments but everybody was constantly talking about all the crazy stuff that had taken place on Monday nights over the past twenty-odd years. And of course everyone was speculating on whether or not the brass would have John win the belt on such a momentous occasion for the company.

John let them speculate. He knew that Punk would be keeping the belt, but he wasn't going to discuss that with anyone. Not even his boyfriend, who he knew would flip his shit if he heard what John had done. But the decision had been made. He didn't like that he was keeping that secret from Punk, but he would at least keep his promise not to interfere any further. Besides, he still had to deal with telling him what had happened with Kidd.

John knew he should have told Punk by now. But goddamnit he was afraid of Punk's reaction. Their relationship had been nearly perfect so far, and he didn't want to ruin that. He' been lucky that Kidd hadn't been around the past few days so he didn't have to worry about the man saying something to Punk before he could, but he knew that wouldn't last forever. John would tell him tonight. He was still holding off on having sex with Punk to make sure he was okay from their time in Florida, so they would be able to talk without any distractions.

Just thinking of their time at his house had his breath coming faster. He'd had his sexy submissive so many times and in so many ways. John couldn't wait for their next block of uninterrupted time together, but next time he'd be more careful not to gorge himself on his lover. He hated that he hadn't been able to be inside his lover the past few days, but he hated even more that he had ever hurt Punk in the first place.

Punk sat in the locker room taping up his wrists. Kofi was beside him talking about his latest first person shooter. Punk wasn't a big gamer like Kofi, but he enjoyed playing with his friend. So when Kofi asked him to come over and play after RAW, he agreed, finishing with, "But let me ask John first."

Kofi blinked. "Did I just hear that right? You need to _ask_ John? Like for permission?"

Punk felt absolutely no shame in admitting that. He and John had talked about the boundaries of their relationship and what was expected of each of them. Basically with anything work related each was his own man, while when they were alone John was in control. But Punk knew no matter where he was or what he was doing, he was John's. And out of respect for his Dom he would check and make sure anything that might affect their time together was okay first before he said yes.

"Yep, you heard right. Don't you check with your wife when you're home before you go off with your friends?"

"Yeah, I do."

Punk shrugged. "I don't see how me asking John is any different."

Kofi grinned. "You're right man. I guess I didn't realize you two had moved so far along." Then he slapped him on the back. "I hope you enjoy being chained up."

Punk looked at his friend with his eyes wide in surprise. "What!?"

"You're in a serious relationship. Which apparently means no more running off to play video games or go to comic stores with your best friend whenever you want. You're chained up," he explained.

"Oh. You know most people use the term ball and chain."

Kofi pretended to gag. "I refuse to talk about balls when discussing you two."

Punk laughed. "Don't be such a 'phobe."

* * *

Punk stood in the back waiting to cut his promo with AJ. Although he knew some fans didn't like their storyline – he was actually getting a kick out of it. And as long as it didn't take attention away from what he and Bryan put on in the ring he had no problem letting it continue. Just before they got started he looked up and saw John leaning on the wall with his arms and legs crossed to watch.

The segment went really well with AJ promising to dedicate her match to him while wearing what looked like a Hilton bath robe. After they finished Punk had to admit that AJ was playing her role really well and he told her so. She took that as encouragement to start talking about her inspirations for her current character. AJ earned some cool points when she mentioned Callisto from Xena. Then she touched him on the arm.

"I'm glad you like what I'm doing, Punk. I think it's a great opportunity to get to work with you."

He shrugged. "Not a problem. I'm -." He didn't finish the rest of his sentence because John was suddenly standing right behind AJ with an expression of barely controlled fury on his face. The Diva turned around and John told her, "Hey AJ, all the Divas are being called to the gorilla. You'd better take off. Now." AJ's eyes widened and she scooted around John and left.

Punk looked at John with his mouth open in surprise. "What the hell was that?"

"I saw her touch you."

"And? People touch me all the time. And you. In fact, people probably touch you _waaay_ more than they touch me. So what's the big deal?"

A muscle ticked in John's jaw. "She was flirting with you. Right in front of me."

"She was not," Punk scoffed. "And even if she was it's not like she knows we're dating. So she wasn't trying to offend you."

The anger eased from John's face but he crowded against Punk, guiding him backwards into the semi-privacy between a shadowed corner and a stage crate. "Then maybe everyone _should_ know we're together. Then that won't be an issue again."

Punk started to grow breathless at the way John was dominating his space. "I thought we agreed to wait until after our program was over to avoid any favoritism talk?" That's what they had discussed last night in bed. While they'd _not _been having sex.

"I think I might have to change my mind about that."

Punk laughed. "You won't have to if you don't let me out of this corner. Someone's gonna walk past and see you pressed up against me."

John pressed even closer, his hand coming up to wrap around Punk's throat. "Are you telling me what to do, sub?"

Punk's belly flipped and a heated flush chased across his skin. Oh yeah, he was definitely getting hot for his Dom with this possessive aggression he was displaying. "No, Sir," he whispered.

"I didn't think so," John said before leaning in and kissing him hard.

Punk closed his eyes, parting his lips when John's tongue demanded entrance, letting John dominate his mouth. When John pulled back Punk opened his eyes slowly and looked at his Dom. John brushed his thumb over his lips.

"No one else is ever going to see this look on your face."

Punk just nodded, his brain still scrambled from the force of John's kiss. He saw a small smile curl John's lips as he started to back away. With a little breathing room his head cleared and he remembered what he'd wanted to ask John. "Wait. Before you go, do you mind if I hang with Kofi for a while tonight? He has a new game he wants to show me."

"That's fine. I'll grab a beer with some of the guys then." Punk wrinkled his nose and John laughed. "And I'll bath in Listerine before you get back to the room."

"Don't be silly, John. You don't have to do that for me. Just gargling with it is good enough." John opened his mouth but Punk beat him to it. "I know. I know. I'm such a smart ass."

* * *

Punk sat cross-legged on the floor his thumbs flying over his controller. He was getting his ass kicked but he was still having fun. "So poor little AJ is probably terrified of John now."

Kofi didn't take his attention from the screen. "Why?"

"John thought she was flirting with me and his eyes sucked all the color out of that bright green Cenation shirt. Told her to scoot and she skeedaddled on out of there."

"AJ flirted with you? I didn't think she was that bold off camera."

Punk laughed. "I don't know if she was or not. She touched my arm a bit is all. But the expressions on John's face when she did and then her face as she took off were hilarious."

Kofi looked away from the screen long enough for Punk to get a head shot in. Punk whooped in victory – he hardly ever beat Kofi.

"You don't think it's weird that John got upset over something that might not have really been flirting?" he said, not even reacting to his loss.

Punk took a sip of his Pepsi. "Nah it was cute," he said out loud. He amended that to sexy in his head.

Kofi shook his head, his dreads dancing across his shoulders. "Be careful man. Jealousy can be tricky. I don't want your ass to wind up as a Lifetime movie."

Punk laughed so hard soda went up his nose. "It's not that serious. John has enough respect for me and our relationship not to really be bothered by that type of thing. Besides if I wound up as any movie it'd be a cutting edge documentary on what it's like to be bi-sexual in professional wrestling."

Kofi thumbed through the on-screen menu to restart their game. "Actually now that I think about it you probably wouldn't be a Lifetime story – I don't think Hollywood has any bearded tattooed freaks that could play you." Then he ducked just as Punk's foot came flying at his head.

* * *

John looked up nervously as he heard the hotel door click open. With Punk gone most of the night with Kofi he'd had a slight reprieve in telling him about Kidd. But now he was back and he was going to tell him. Well he was, but then he heard Punk groan in pain. He immediately jumped up off the bed and met his love at the door. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just tweaked my back a little bit when I GTS'd Kane tonight. And then sitting on the floor hunched over a controller for hours didn't help."

John rubbed Punk's back as he guided him over to the bed. "Lay down, baby. I'll massage it for you."

Punk looked at John from beneath his lashes. "You know I might have other … areas that need to be massaged too."

John's lips twitched as he undressed Punk down to his boxers and pushed him gently down onto the bed. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Punk sat up. "Wait." His hand rose to touch his neck and John knew exactly what he wanted. He pulled the silver chain off and placed it on the nightstand. He took Punk's collar from his back pocket and clasped it around his neck. John gave his lover a small kiss and then pushed him back down. This time Punk settled down immediately.

John grabbed a small bottle of baby oil out of his bag – he might not soak himself in the stuff like his best friend but all wrestlers used it – and stripped himself down to his own boxers before climbing onto the bed to straddle Punk's hips. "I would say that I wish you wouldn't pick up Kane, but it's an impressive sight to see."

"Cuz I'm so scrawny?"

"You are not scrawny. I just love seeing how strong you are. Even though you're slender. It's like you're Spider-Man."

Punk protested. "If I'm any super hero it's Batman."

John leaned down to place a kiss on the nape of his neck. "Fine you're Batman. Now just relax and let me take care of you." John slicked his hands up with the oil and pressed his fingers into the muscles of Punk's back. He kneaded up and down the smooth flesh, digging his thumbs in to look for the knot that was bothering his lover. When Punk groaned he knew he found it and he concentrated on that spot. He rubbed the tense muscle hard until he'd worked it out, Punk's sigh telling him that he felt better. But John didn't stop touching him. He stroked his hands over Punk's back, trailing his fingers lightly up and down his sides. His lover sensed the change in his touch and opened his eyes to look over his shoulder.

John leaned down, pressing his torso to Punk's slick back to kiss him. He pulled back and brushed his lips up his cheek to whisper into his lover's ear. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes. I feel better … everywhere."

John knew what Punk was trying to tell him. "Is that right?"

Punk nodded and started to turn over. John stopped him by squeezing him with his thighs. "Stay like this. I want to rub you a little longer. He scooted down a bit and pulled Punk's boxers down, Punk's hips rising slowly to help him get them off. John's cock thickened and his mouth watered as the firm round flesh of his lover's ass was revealed. But he decided to bypass that area for now so that he could address the rest of the long lithe body beneath him.

John poured more oil into his palms and started to massage his sub's thighs and calves. He rubbed him slowly, eventually stroking his hands everywhere until his body gleamed with oil in the low lamplight. Leaning down again, John licked a path from the base of Punk's spine all the way up until he reached the strap of his collar. He sucked the skin there lightly, drawing a shiver from his lover. John slid a finger between Punk's cheeks, not penetrating, just stroking the sensitive skin. "I don't think it'll kill us to wait one more day." Punk's lips parted as though to protest, but John simply looked at him sternly and he didn't say anything. "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy your body in other ways."

John stood up and pulled his boxers off, Punk watching him with those sexy green eyes darkened with passion. He shifted on the bed as though he were about to change positions and John spoke up. "Uh-huh. Don't move. In fact…" John rummaged around in his bag until he found his handcuffs. He clasped one around Punk's wrist before threading the chain through the slats of the headboard and closing the other cuff around his other wrist. John lifted Punk's chin to get his attention. "And don't you dare beg me tonight. I don't want to have to gag you too." Punk's eyes flared in surprise and John figured the threat alone would be enough. Besides he didn't really want to gag his lover, he enjoyed hearing the moans and sexy little gasps he made way too much.

Before he climbed back onto the bed, John took a moment to just stare at his submissive. Punk was stretched out on his stomach, his arms raised over his head and chained to the headboard, every bit of his golden skin slick with oil. John's cock pulsed at the sight. He could just eat him up. John straddled Punk again and picked up the bottle of oil one last time. He drizzled the liquid over Punk's ass, making sure some of it dripped into that dark crevice. Then he capped the bottle and threw it aside. He ran his palms over Punk's ass, cupping and squeezing the smooth cheeks. Using his thumbs to spread his lover just a tiny bit, John blew a warm breath across the exposed area. Punk shivered but John didn't stop there. He traced his tongue inside, stroking deeper until he reached Punk's entrance. He licked the area but again he didn't penetrate. Just teased and tapped against it until Punk was moaning and writhing beneath him. His hips pushed back against John's face and he allowed it, licking faster and deeper until Punk's ass was slick with both the oil and his saliva. John rose up, his body sliding easily against Punk's oiled skin as he stretched himself out over his lover. He lined his cock up against the crack of Punk's ass and started to move his hips.

"You have no idea how bad I wish I was inside you right now, fucking deep into your sweet ass," he whispered roughly in Punk's ear. Punk cried out jerking at his chains.

"Sir, please…"

"You're not begging me are you, Phil?"

Punk screwed his eyes shut. "No, Sir. But I can't…"

"Can't what?"

"I can't take it," he gasped as he continued to squirm underneath John.

John nipped at his ear lobe. "What? What can't you take?"

"I can't take feeling you against me, and listening to your voice, knowing I can't have you inside me." Punk trembled as John laughed low, the sound vibrating against his skin.

"You'll take whatever I want you to take. If I decide I want to rub against you like this all night you'll take it. If I decide to tell you how much I love feeling your tight ass gripping every inch of my cock you'll lay here like a good boy and listen. If I decide to take your cock into my hand and stroke you until I decide I'm ready for you to come you'll let me. Do you understand?"

Punk sobbed out a yes, his hands twitching in their cuffs, his hips rising to meet John's slow thrusts. John slipped a hand underneath him and put his words into effect, grasping his cock and pumping him with the lightest grip he'd ever used. It made Punk shake and tremble with the urge to somehow get John to squeeze him tighter. John was whispering in his ear again. "Phil?" Punk licked his dry lips so he could answer. "Yes, Sir?"

"The first time I was inside you was the best thing I'd ever felt – that is until I made you mine and got to fuck you bare. Then I thought I'd died and gone to heaven." Goosebumps chased across Punk's skin as John licked the shell of his ear, his cock still slipping up and down in between his ass. "I couldn't believe how hot you were. That luscious heat was amazing. And ever since then all I can think about is burying my cock inside you again … and again … and again." John started to tighten his grip. "Pushing deep." He squeezed his fist around Punk's shaft. "Hitting your spot." Another squeeze. "Making you come." This time the squeeze was accompanied by a brush of his thumb across the slick head of his shaft.

Punk moaned. "Oh my _God_. I need to come right now." John licked his tongue up under Punk's collar. "I said I don't want you begging for my cock tonight, but I do think I want you to beg for your orgasm. So do it. Beg me."

Punk obeyed immediately. Words of pleading tripped over themselves as he begged his Dom for release. And whatever he was saying must have been what John wanted to hear because the tightness of his grip and the speed of his pumping steadily increased until Punk was right on the edge. He knew John was working towards his own orgasm as those hard hips flexed against him over and over, driving that thick shaft between his ass cheeks. But then it happened. Punk pushed back and John pushed forwards, but by that time they were both so slippery with oil that the head of John's cock slid down smoothly into Punk's entrance. Punk froze. John had said he wouldn't be inside him tonight, but he was right there! Still, Punk didn't dare try to deepen the connection. He didn't even want to imagine the punishment John would come up with for that.

A desperate groan escaped him as John raised up to brace himself on his palms, pushing an inch further inside him. John stroked in the tiniest bit and Punk had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from begging John to fuck him. He looked back over his shoulder to see the muscles in John's arms bunched up hard and straining, his face tight with tension. Another shallow stroke. "Fuck, Phil. You're so goddamn hot." Then … he pulled out.

Punk sank his teeth into his own arm to keep from sobbing. But he didn't get the chance to be too miserable because John's hand gripped him again, resuming his quickened pace. His lover came back down over his back and whispered against his lips, "Come for me pretty little sub," before kissing him roughly. Once, twice more of that big fist moving on him before Punk shuddered and came in John's hand. When he was spent, he felt John reach down and squeeze his cheeks tightly together as he continued to slide between them, faster and faster. Then with a harsh groan John came, spilling over his lower back though most of it slid down the crack of his ass.

Punk laid there, still in his cuffs, and covered in sweat, oil, and his Dom's cum. By this point in their relationship he didn't even find it strange that he liked the way he felt a little bit dirty, a whole lot possessed, and even more loved. John laid next to him and he rubbed his back as they gazed at one another. "You bring something out in me that I never even knew existed," Punk said. "And I love it." John kissed him softly.

"Thank God for that. Because you're perfect for me and I don't ever want to go back to being without you."

* * *

John awoke with a start. He was wrapped around Punk, his thigh pushed between his sub's legs and his palm settled over the warm skin of his stomach. The room was dark and quiet, so what had woken him? Then he heard it again. Somebody was pounding on the door. He got up, Punk's protest even in his sleep making him smile. He was pulling on his boxers when he heard Punk's sleepy voice.

"Where are you going?"

John pulled the covers up over Punk. "Somebody's at the door. Stay here." John looked through the hotel door peep hole and saw one of the WWE handlers in the hallway looking harried. He opened the door. "What?" Even he had his limits on being polite and banging on his door this early was definitely outside of them.

The young woman's eyes popped wide in her head. John knew he probably looked a mess; his bare chest sticky with dried baby oil and beard burn on his face. And he definitely smelled like sex. But that was just too bad; he hadn't asked to be pulled from his bed. "What?" he said again.

The girl shook herself before finally speaking. "I've been trying to call you."

"Phone is off. What's so important?"

"Vince wants you doing promo for Money in the Bank and RAW 1000 at an event today. I've changed your flight and your plane leaves in about two hours."

John cursed but didn't bother to argue. He knew Vince was sometimes prone to sudden decisions like this – especially when something as big as RAW 1000 was involved.

"Punk is your roommate, right?" the handler said trying to peer into the room.

John moved to block the woman's view with his body to keep her from seeing that only one bed had been used, but also because the thought of someone else seeing Punk cuddled up all warm and sleepy in bed made him a little crazed. "Yeah he is. Why?"

"Same thing for him, just on the other side of the country. I'm sorry – I know it's early and super last minute but Vince…"

John cut her off. "Don't worry about it, it's not your fault. We'll be ready to go in twenty minutes." John shut the door and went to sit on the edge of the bed where Punk was still tucked under the covers.

"Did you hear that?"

"We were supposed to stay here in bed together today," he answered with a slight pout on his mouth.

John snaked a hand under the covers to rub Punk's back. "I know baby, I'm sorry. But we'll meet up in Laredo as early as possible. And I'll call you every night."

Punk sat up, the covers falling to his waist. "You promise?"

"I promise," John said as he pulled Punk closer for a kiss.

Punk sighed. "You're about to take my collar off aren't you?"

"Yeah. I have to." He tugged Punk's arms around his neck, and then kissed him with every bit of love he felt as he released the clasp to his sub's collar. John pulled back and reached to the nightstand for the **X** pendant and draped it around Punk's neck. Then he got up and pulled Punk from the bed.

"You go shower first. I'll get our stuff ready." He turned to grab their bags but felt Punk's arms come around his waist from behind.

"Thank you, Sir. That helped."

John knew he was referring to the way he'd taken his collar off. "You're welcome."

Punk laid his face against his back. "But it looks like it's gonna be a little longer than just one more day."

John groaned. "Don't remind me."

* * *

**A/N**: Goodness gracious John! Where'd you get that dirty mouth? ;-) Thank you for sticking with this story. I hope it's not too sticky sweet lovey-lovey for you. I promise several things will be addressed soon! And what do you all think of Punk's buzzed head? I like it – but I guess he'll never go back to the long silky black hair. Le sigh.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I know no one and own nothing from the WWE. This is not a true story. My head would explode if even a smidge of it were true.

**A/N:** Sorry this is a little later than usual! Work, derby, life, yada, yada, yada. If I get lots of reviews I'll probably be inspired to update faster this time. ;-) Also, I'm guessing Punk has seen Star Wars – but it suited my purposes to write as though he hadn't (It's Rocky he's tweeted that he hasn't seen). Forgive me?

**Warning**: m/m slashy smut & cursing.

* * *

"So you're saying you didn't like my promo?"

It took Punk a moment to figure out what John was talking about. They'd just finished talking about other … things, and Punk's brain was still a little fuzzy. "I guess it was alright. I just didn't get most of it. I've never seen Star Wars."

John's surprise was clear through the phone line. "How in the hell have you never seen Star Wars?"

"The same way you've never seen The Blob. Just never watched it."

"Hmmph. I'm going to have to get you to watch it soon."

Punk tried to stifle a yawn as he answered. "Okay. We can watch it on our next movie night." But John must have heard him because he asked, "Are you ready for bed, baby?" "Yeah. If I would've known you were the cure for my insomnia I would've pranced around in front of you in my trunks every day to get your attention."

John snorted. "You were already doing that. You just didn't know I was watching."

Punk curled up on his side and closed his eyes. "That's true." This was his favorite part of the phone conversations they had every night they were apart; listening to John as he told him how much he loved and missed him. It was like once he'd had a taste of John's affection, he couldn't get enough.

"I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I've missed holding you as you fall asleep the past few days."

"I've missed it too. It's kinda hard to be the little spoon when you're in bed by yourself."

John laughed. "I love you, Phil, more than anything."

"More than jean shorts on sale at Sears?"

"Way more than that. Get some rest, baby."

Punk yawned again. "Love you too, John. Good night."

* * *

As John watched the numbers on the elevator rise, the tiredness he felt after three days on the road, smiling, posing, and signing autographs slipped from his body like it was never there. He was about to see his love again after three days apart. That perked him up like he'd had a double shot of espresso and Red Bull. The elevator stopped on his floor and he stepped out into the hallway, pulling his rolling luggage behind him. He slid his key card into the lock eagerly, knowing Punk was on the other side of that door.

When he walked into the room he had to smile. Punk was sitting cross legged on the bed facing him with the Star Wars DVD menu on the TV. He was dressed in only a baggy pair of basketball shorts, his tattoos and nipple rings bare to John's gaze. John dropped his bags and made a beeline for the bed. "Is tonight movie night?"

"You said you wanted me to watch it," Punk said.

John kicked off his shoes and sat down next to Punk. He noticed a bag of foil wrapped candy. "And the Hershey's Kisses?"

Punk grinned. "I promised you chocolate for our next movie night."

John remembered that promise. It had been the night Punk admitted he wanted John to kiss him. The first night he got to make his beautiful lover come. John wrapped a hand around Punk's neck and pulled him in for a real kiss. As they kissed John loved the way Punk relaxed against him with his head tilted back. It made him feel as though Punk loved accepting his kisses and craved John dominating him as he kissed him. John brushed his lips against Punk's one last time. "This is nice to come back to. I missed you."

"I missed you too. Now let's watch so I can decide if your promo was corny or cool."

"I think you'll find that that promo was definitely epic."

Punk hit play and they both scooted up to sit with their backs against the headboard. The movie started with the narrative scrolling across the screen. John opened the bag of chocolates. Unwrapping one he popped it into his mouth, letting it slowly melt on his tongue. Punk held his hand out for one.

"Gimme."

John started to get another Kiss from the bag, then he changed his mind. Instead, he turned Punk's head to face him. When Punk's mouth opened in surprise John leaned over and licked between his parted lips, sharing the taste of the chocolate in his mouth. Punk's hand came up to rest on his chest and they kissed until all the candy was gone.

"Mmmm… gimme another."

John opened another Kiss and sucked on it for a moment before kissing Punk again. This time when the candy was gone they kept kissing, their arms wrapped around each other. John's interest in the movie faded as he rubbed his tongue against Punk's, tasting his sweetness and sharing his breaths. He wanted to watch the movie, but after three days apart and even more days abstaining, he wanted to make love to his sub more. John eased Punk down the bed until he was on his back. He buried his face in Punk's neck. "You smell so good, Phil. How come you smell so good to me?"

"Pheromones," Punk gasped out as John sucked on his neck.

John laughed as he kissed his way down Punk's body. Hooking his fingers into the waistbands of Punk's shorts and boxers he dragged them both off. He licked a slow trail up Punk's stiff erection. "Is that why you taste so good to me too, baby? Pheromones?" Punk stuttered out a response as John flicked his tongue across his cock head. John sucked his lover down slowly. When he felt Punk's hips start to move, John pressed his forearm low across his belly and held him down. John continued at the slow pace he'd set moving his mouth on his lover, ignoring any attempts to get him to speed up. He ignored it when Punk's strong sexy thighs came up and squeezed him tight. He ignored it when Punk's nails dug into his shoulders. He ignored the sweet begging and moans that fell from Punk's lips. He just kept going, sucking slowly, knowing he was driving his lover crazy. When Punk gasped that he needed to come John finally stopped, only to move down to Punk's entrance and spear his tongue inside, getting him wet and stretched for his cock.

When John deemed him ready he slid back up Punk's body prepared to push inside of his lover. But then he stopped. He pulled Punk up and then pushed him face down at the foot of the bed on his stomach so that he was facing the TV. "Now you can keep watching the movie," he said. He slid all the way into his lover's tightness drawing a moan from him before he asked, "Movie?" in a dazed voice. John just laughed and started to move. "You're supposed to be watching so you can judge my mic skills."

Punk shook his head, panting lightly. "I can't think … can't think about anything else when you're inside me."

John lowered himself until he was pressed flush against Punk. "Good. I don't want you thinking about anything else. I want to be the only thing on your mind. I want to possess your every thought." He pushed in deeper, knowing exactly where to thrust to hit his lover's pleasure spot.

Punk gave a gasping cry as John hit that bundle of nerves that sent tingles of bliss spiraling through his body. He knew the movie was still playing, but nothing registered in his head. There were just images and colors flashing across the screen as his entire world narrowed to the feel of John's hard chest pressed against his back, John's thighs rubbing against his as he stroked into him slow and steady, stimulating every single nerve inside him. John's voice. John's breaths. Just … John. "You do, Sir. You possess all of me," he said on a moan.

John's heart pumped hard and his head buzzed with the thrill of love and ownership he felt for his sub. Never had he felt anything as strong as what he felt for Punk. As he moved inside his lover the pleasure he experienced went far past just the physical. John pressed his hands into the mattress and raised himself up. Looking down he watched himself thrusting into his sub's ass. He'd rather watch that than anything that was on that TV screen. Then he thought that as sexy as that sight was, he'd prefer to see his lover's beautiful face as he reached his climax. Pulling out John rolled Punk over into his back. He groaned as he slid back into that snug heat. "God, Phil. I could stay inside of you forever." Punk's hands came up and rested on his back as he gave a desperate little moan. "What baby? Tell me what you want."

But Punk just shook his head as he gazed up at John. "I want what you want, Sir."

John leaned down and kissed him, whispering words of praise for his submission, before slipping his hand between their bodies to grasp Punk's hard shaft. "What I want is to feel you all around me while I make you come. Wrap your legs around me. Hold me tight." Punk obeyed and John started to pump his lover. He kept moving and stroking as those thighs gripped his waist and soon Punk was gasping with his approaching orgasm.

"Sir, I need – may I come, please?"

John was tempted to let his lover have his release, especially since it had been several days since they'd fully made love. But he wasn't ready for this to be over yet, and he wanted Punk absolutely desperate for his climax by the time he let him have it. "No. Hold it for me. I want more of you." Punk's eyes closed and he sucked his lip ring as he nodded.

John started moving faster, matching the speed he pumped Punk's slick and straining cock to the movement of his hips. He kept his eyes on Punk, watching his lover as he fought to keep his orgasm back. Just when it seemed as though he was about to lose control, John slowed his thrusts and eased up on his stroking. A shiver ran through Punk and his fingers dug into John's back. He brought himself back under control fairly quickly. _Nope_, John thought. He wasn't ready yet. Again he slowly increased the speed of his fist sliding over Punk's cock, thrusting just as fast, pushing hard and deep. And again he watched as his sub strained to hold back, his face flushed and his lips parted slightly as he panted. John took him right to the brink, Punk's legs squeezing him almost painfully. This time when he asked could he come John stopped moving completely. Punk's eyes flashed open and he spoke on a choked gasp.

"Sir, _Please_. Just let me come," Punk begged. His cock was throbbing and he felt as though one touch from John would set him off. But John shook his head no and continued to hold still. Punk breathed deep, trying to get his mind off the orgasm that was pulsing just at the tip of his cock head. But the feel of John inside him, stretching him with a delicious sense of fullness made that pretty much impossible. And before he'd managed to calm down all the way John started moving again. This time there was no build up. His Dom just immediately started thrusting inside him at a breath stealing speed. Punk gasped, his body tingling, thinking that this time, John might actually push him past the point of his control.

John looked down at Punk. He looked so beautiful with his eyes dazed with passion. As his head arched back into the pillow, John noted the pulse beating rapidly in his throat and saw little droplets of sweat in the hollow there. John slowed down just a bit so that he could lean down and lick at his sub's neck. And when he did he got the reaction he'd been waiting for. Punk cried out.

"No! Please, don't stop again! I need to come so bad," he gasped. Punk's hips rose to press against his and his arms tightened around his back. His body trembled as he begged over and over to be allowed to come.

"Settle down and I'll let you come," he said. He withdrew slowly loving the feel of Punk's hot walls dragging against every inch of his cock before pushing back in just as slow. Beneath him Punk was biting his lip as he struggled to relax. And just when he'd loosened his grip on John's back, John smiled and thrust hard into his spot. Punk immediately tightened back around him, his head thrashing on the pillow.

"Oh fuck! Oh god!"

"I said settle down," John ordered again. This time Punk took much longer to calm, his sweat-slick chest pumping hard. But finally he was completely still.

John met Punk's green gaze. "Are you ready, baby?" Punk nodded, his eyes wide as he looked back at him. John began thrusting hard and deep into his lover, striking his spot while he stroked his fist up and down on his shaft. He felt his own shaft start to pulse with the urge to come as his balls drew up hard and tight. So when Punk's hips started moving against his again he gave him the permission he'd been begging for. "Go ahead and come for me baby. Come now." He squeezed his hand tight around Punk's cock head and watched as his sub came apart beneath him. Punk's head arched back, his neck straining as he shouted and moaned with his orgasm, his hips thrusting up jerkily against John's. At the feel of his sub's hot com sliding through his fist and his ass clenching tight on his cock, John groaned. "Fuck, Phil, love the way your ass grips me as you come," he said as he started to come too. His orgasm came barreling up his cock to shoot into his lover, leaving John breathless as he continued to move until they both were completely drained.

Finally he collapsed to Punk's side, Punk whining a little protest as his cock slid free from his sub's body. John pulled him in tight for a hug as they struggled to catch their breath. "Don't worry, baby. I'm not finished with you yet."

Punk moaned and wrapped his leg around John's hip. After the way John had just made him wait for his orgasm until he thought he was going to explode you'd think he wouldn't be able to handle any more. But for John, for his Dom, he was still greedy for more. By the end of the night, Punk was completely sated, his body limp with pleasure and his head peaceful. But he still hadn't seen Star Wars.

* * *

John and Punk sat in the locker room. Surprisingly they had it to themselves for the moment. Punk straddled the bench as he watched John pull on his crisply ironed Cenation shirt and his wristbands. "So when do I get to take the lead?" he blurted out.

John turned and looked down at him. "What?"

"You always control me. Do I ever get to control you? Do I get to take the lead?"

John's eyebrow rose. "I think you're missing the point of the whole Dom/sub relationship."

Punk started to say something else but the locker room door opened to admit a camera and mic team.

"Hey guys, you wanna get your backstage segment out of the way now in case things get too hectic later?"

Punk looked up at John for his answer. When he said yeah, Punk swung his leg over the bench and stood up. The camera started to roll, and Punk picked up their conversation, altering it to fit their upcoming match. "Ever since I've become the WWE champion I think I've grown as a leader and a man. So why don't we just have you listen to me out there? Follow my lead."

John's dimples popped as he tried not to laugh. "Ok, we'll just uh… I'll just listen to you." John slapped him on the back and then walked off camera grinning.

Punk was better able to keep from corpsing and he stayed on camera until they stopped filming. When the two guys left John came back over.

"What am I gonna do with you?"

Punk smirked, "Give me what I want?" He didn't really want to be in control of John, but there was something that he did want. The door opened and a few of the roster came in. John stepped back.

"We'll talk about this later." He casually headed over to the door saying hi to the guys he passed.

Punk turned back to his locker. He had a feeling that when John heard what he wanted he wouldn't turn down his request.

* * *

RAW was about to start and Punk headed towards the gorilla with Kofi. He saw John standing there talking to himself in that crazy way he did to get pumped up before he hit the ramp. Out of respect he waited until John was finished. He knew he'd be pissed if someone interrupted his pre-show ritual. When John noticed him and beckoned him over he went, leaving Kofi standing there waiting. He stood as close to John as he dared.

"We're about to be in the ring together again. You ready for this?"

"If by ready you mean ready to show you up on the mic and in the ring then yep. I'm ready."

John laughed and looked around. When he only saw Kofi he slipped his fingers under the neck of Punk's t-shirt to his collar. "Do you want me to take this off you now and keep it with me or do you want to take it off yourself later?"

Punk thought for a moment. He was tempted to say he'd do it later so he could wear it longer. But then he decided he preferred it when John took his collar off for him. So he bowed his head. "Please take it off for me, Sir."

John pulled his collar over his head, his fingers stroking the nape of his neck as he did so. Punk watched as John put the necklace in his pocket. John took another look around and still not seeing anyone pulled Punk in by the throat for a quick kiss. Then he stepped back. "I'll see you in a few," he said before disappearing through the curtain to the sound of bass and trumpets.

Punk stared after him for a second before looking at the monitor to watch John head down to the ring and start talking up his Money in the Bank match.

"Punk!"

He turned and looked at Kofi. "Damn man, I hear you. Why are you yelling?"

"Umm… maybe because you didn't hear me the first two times I called you. Why'd John take that chain off of you?"

Punk shrugged. He wasn't ready to share the information that he was a sub with one of his best friends. Although it would be pretty hilarious to blurt it out and then head down to the ring right after, leaving Kofi there in shock. "Just something John holds onto for me."

"Oh. Well I'd better go find Truth. I'll see you later."

Punk clasped his hand. "Later." Then he went back to watching John on the screen. After a few minutes of John and Bryan going at it he got his cue and went out. He mocked Bryan for a bit, asking the crowd questions so he could answer with "Yes!" It was actually kind of fun, so he kept going, skipping around the ring and chanting 'Yes!' until Bryan finally cut him off. When he was done he gravitated towards John and stayed by his side for the rest of the promo. At least he did until Kane and Show came out and started knocking everyone around. After they all made their way back stage Punk headed over to sit on a crate behind one of the WWE trailers. After a few minutes, John joined him.

"You little liar," he said as he came up.

Punk looked at him confused. "What?"

John ran his finger along the leg opening of Punk's tights. "You said that green makes you look sallow. It does not."

Punk laughed. "You can't tell that from this little bit of green on my tights."

"I guess not. But I like you in green. Did you wear these for me?"

"Maybe," Punk said smirking. He had, but he wasn't going to admit it. He'd thought it would be funny – okay cute, but he definitely wasn't going to admit _that_ - for them to be in the ring together, both in the same color.

John slipped his finger in his tights and tugged on them. "Maybe I should start picking which tights you wear. I have a preference for certain ones."

Punk looked at John with his head tilted to the side. This he had to hear. "Really? Which ones?"

"The yellow ones you wore on the night of your shoot promo."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Too easy. Name another pair."

John started stroking the skin just above his knee pads. "Your black and white ones."

"With all your loud Cenation shirts you like those?" he asked in surprise.

""Yep," John said, his fingers inching higher up Punk's thighs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive inner flesh.

Punk shifted his hips as his breath started to come a little faster. "Which other ones?"

John's thumbs brushed over his rapidly hardening shaft. "Definitely the Chicago flag colored ones that you wore when we wrestled at Money in the Bank last year." Punk swallowed hard as John stepped closer and brushed his lips across his ear. "And now it looks like I'll be adding these to my list. Cuz every time I see them I'll be thinking about how I got to fuck you while you were wearing them."

Punk's eyes widened as he realized what John meant. He started to protest. "John, we shouldn't -" But he was cut off as John's lips smashed against his and he opened up for his lover's thrusting tongue. His blood was racing with anticipation and the dangerous fear that they might get caught when John's arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him down off the crate. But he didn't even resist when John spun him around so that he was facing the crate with John pressed to his back. And as John tugged his tights down and pushed inside him he dropped his head back against his Dom's shoulder, moaning in pleasure. It looked like these were gonna be one of his favorite pairs of tights too.

* * *

Punk was recording another segment with AJ. And just like last week she hung around after the camera guys had left. This time he watched her to see if she was flirting with him or just being friendly. He wasn't sure until she touched his arm again, skimming her fingers over the skin between his wrist tape and elbow wrap.

"I love your tattoos, Punk. Maybe we could hang out sometime and you can tell me the meaning behind all of them?" she asked, looking up at him with her eyes wide and hopeful.

Punk took a quick step back so that her hand fell off of him. Yep. That was definitely flirting. Thank fuck John wasn't there or he'd be going berserk. He was about to tell her that was never gonna happen but Cody walked up. AJ gave him a smile that was eerily similar to the psychotic one she used on camera and left.

Cody stared after her. "What was that?"

Punk blew out an exasperated breath. "Looks like I'm gonna have to let AJ down kayfabe and in real life. I just hope she's not really a crazy chick."

Cody laughed. "Good luck with that. I haven't had anyone backstage come on to me in so long – I have no clue what I'd do if that happened."

"All fear the wrath of the mighty Viper," Punk intoned in a deep voice.

Cody laughed again. "Pretty much." Then he looked at Punk. "I can't believe you matched your trunks and kick pads to John's shirt. How has no one made fun of you yet?"

Punk scowled. "Maybe because no one else is stupid enough to do so."

Cody smirked and poked Punk in the stomach. "Don't be embarrassed Punk. It's so adorable; I'm planning to throw up in my mouth later. I can't wait for you two to start wearing matching track suits like a little old couple."

Punk had to laugh out loud at the image that brought to mind. The day he wore a track suit was the day he stopped calling himself Best in the World.

"Did John notice?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "Of course he did. I think he'd notice if I let my fingernails grow an extra millimeter. He joked that he was gonna start picking which tights I wore. Except somehow I get the feeling he might not have been joking."

Cody snorted. "Typical Dom. Always wanting to control everything."

They noticed Kidd walking up and they both quieted. Punk nodded his head in greeting. "Hey, Kidd."

Tyson nodded back. "You guys talking about John? Don't stop on my account. I know what it's like to be under his control."

Punk went still. "What?"

Kidd shrugged nonchalantly. "You're playing with John, right? I've been there.

Cody tried to tell Kidd to leave but Punk cut him off. "I don't think so, Cody. I want to hear this. When was the last time you _played_ with John?"

Kidd looked like he was trying to think. "Back in April. Can't remember what city we were in – they all start to blur with the way we travel, right?" He gestured at Cody with the water bottle in his hand like he was seeking his agreement, but Cody only stared at him with a frozen angry expression.

Punk didn't care about the city. Only one thing mattered – and it would determine if John had been fucking around with Kidd while trying to convince Punk to be with him. "Was it before or after Extreme Rules?"

Kidd took a swallow of his water before answering. "It was definitely after Extreme Rules. I remember because John was bitching about having to wear that sling down to the ring at the club that night."

Punk's stomach dropped. He didn't know exactly what night Kidd was talking about, but it didn't matter. Because pretty much from the night of that pay-per-view on John had been pursuing him.

"I didn't really get to service him the way I wanted to, but that's probably because he was drunk."

Punk's fists clenched hearing Kidd refer to servicing John, anger and hurt boiling through him until he was ready to explode.

Cody spoke up. "Don't listen to him, Punk. You don't even know if he's telling the truth."

Punk had that hope for a brief second and he turned to get away from Kidd before he punched him in his fucking mouth. But then he saw John standing there behind him with a guilty expression on his face and he knew it was true. He was so furious his vision blurred and he felt like he was choking on the urge to shout every goddamn curse word he could think of at _both_ John and Kidd. Punk went to walk past John, dodging him when he tried to reach out and catch his arm. But then John called out, "Punk stop." He automatically responded to John's command and stopped, which pissed him off so bad he wanted to fucking scream.

"Nothing really happened. I was drunk, you heard him."

Punk's voice was full of scorn as he turned to look at John. "Oh, I'm _soooo_ sorry you were too drunk to get it up and let that stupid little shit _service_ you."

John stepped towards him. "That's not what I meant, Punk. I was just trying to say I was too drunk to know what I was doing at - "

Punk cut him off. "So we're blaming this on the evils of alcohol? How original," he sneered.

John started to speak again but Punk was saved from having to listen to his excuses as _Cult of Personality_ boomed through the arena. With one last angry look at John he turned his back on him and burst through the curtain.

**A/N:** Whelp, guessed John missed the boat on telling Punk himself. And just what the hell is Tyson's motivation here? Oh and you might be able to tell from Cody's line about matching outfits that I'm a huge Buffy fan. Five points to you if you know what episode that's from. Hint: Harmony is the one who says something similar.

P.S. Paul. Fucking. Heyman. Hells yeah. Expect him to show up in S, C, & L. I'm giddy with giddiness.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I know no one and own nothing from the WWE. But I've been kicking ass in physical therapy and even got my butt back in the gym. So I totally deserve a new shirt. Which should I get? Pink Ziggles, DX or Daniel Bryan?

**Warning**: Lot's o' cursing in this chapter.

**A/N:** I was on the verge of posting another one of those marathon chapters. But this time I decided to break it up. My brain was exhausted just reading it! Lol. So this is a shorty. But you're welcome to follow me on Twitter to find out how I'm coming along on my next updates. =) ShockZ314 Erase the spaces for the link to work.

* * *

_I didn't get to service him the way I wanted to..._ Punk heard Tyson's voice in his head as he went through his entrance. He was pissed, but he didn't know what made him madder. The fact that John apparently couldn't be bothered to keep his dick to himself while he'd been pursuing him, or hearing Kidd use the word service when talking about _his_ Dom. Punk climbed up on the top rope and raised the title high. As he yelled out, "Best in the World!" he had to shake his head, trying to banish the image of Kidd on his knees before John from his brain. _Fuck this_, he thought as he jumped down. He needed to concentrate on the match. He didn't have time to think about this right now. Punk tried to put the situation firmly out of his head. When John's music hit, he didn't even react.

* * *

John stared at Kidd in furious disbelief. He couldn't believe it. Kidd had opened his big mouth to Punk and he was still standing there instead of running away in fear of bodily harm. What the fuck was going through his head?

"I guess Punk isn't as yours as you thought. Otherwise he wouldn't have taken off like that." Kidd came closer to him. "But I would never walk away from you John. You know that. And even when you send me away I always come back. I can be a much better sub to you than that hot-headed tattooed freak if you just give me a chance."

John stepped closer too, but it wasn't out of desire to be close to Kidd. No, he moved closer because he was ready to beat Kidd down to the ground. Cody must have realized that because he jumped in front of him with his arm out.

"John, don't. He's an asshole for what he did but a fight right now won't help."

John knew Cody was right. But he still had anger pulsing red-hot through his veins and he let Kidd know in no uncertain terms how he felt. He didn't scream or shout, but his voice was deadly serious. "Unless you want me to fucking choke the shit out of you I suggest you get away from me. Because if I lose Punk over your bullshit, I'm going to kill you." Kidd's eyes widened but John wasn't finished. "And no matter what happens with Punk I would _never_ want you as my sub." John heard the opening beats of his music and knew he had to get out there. He backed away from Kidd, his fists clenched to restrain himself from wrapping his hands around that fool's throat and squeezing, and headed off to do his job.

After John left Cody looked at Tyson in disgust. "You don't know the first thing about being a submissive. If you did you wouldn't have tried to hurt John – the man you claim to want as your Dom – to get what you want. A true sub would never be so selfish."

"Shut up, Cody," Tyson snapped. "Just because you've been the Viper's precious little play toy forever doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about Dom/sub relationships. Sometimes you have to fight to get what you want. _Then_ you can submit. But you wouldn't know that since you're just Orton's little lap dog. And Punk is the biggest asshole I've ever met. There's no way he's gonna stay as John's submissive for long. The newness will wear off and he'll be back to banging chics." Then he smirked. "I know how sad that'll make you though, since you'll lose your new little sub buddy."

Cody stood there listening to the hateful nonsense coming out of Kidd's mouth before he finally lost it and punched him in the face. He hit him hard enough that Kidd stumbled backwards and fell on his ass. Cody stood over him. "I refuse to be all dramatic and tell you what that was for. Besides, if you can't figure it out, then you're a bigger idiot than I thought." He came within a hair's breadth to kicking Kidd while he was down. Instead, he left him lying there and went back to the locker room.

* * *

As John stepped out onto the ramp, he couldn't even bring himself to smile and say anything to the camera like usual. He just gave a grim salute and headed down to the ring. Once he was done tossing his hat and shirt he headed over to his and Punk's corner.

"I'm sorry, baby." He said low enough for the microphones not to pick up. Punk didn't respond. He tried again. "Let's talk after the match. I can explain everything." Punk didn't even look at him. John started to panic. "Don't shut me out, Phil." Punk continued to ignore him. The bell rang but John tried to get his attention one more time before finally stepping out onto the apron.

John felt sick to his stomach as the match began. He'd really been looking forward to tonight – to finally being in the ring with Punk again. He always loved to watch Punk wrestle, his best in the world tag wasn't just empty boasting, and he knew they had great chemistry in the ring together. Yet as he watched Punk perform a snap suplex on Bryan, it wasn't with the joy he'd been expecting, but with a sick fear that Punk would be so pissed he would actually walk away from him for good. _Goddamnit_, John cursed at himself. He should have come clean with Punk when he had the chance. And now it was too late. Still, he refused to lose his lover over this. Punk was going to listen to him. John would do whatever he had to do get Punk to listen to him and accept his apology. He was suddenly filled with energy and determination and he slapped Punk on the back for his turn in the ring with more force than he intended.

Punk couldn't believe that John would actually try to apologize to him in the fucking ring right before their match. Did John actually think that would be enough for him to forgive and move on? Just because he was John's sub didn't make him a fucking door mat. And if John didn't have enough respect for him and their relationship to realize that, then they were headed for trouble. Punk watched John as he went one on one with Bryan, then Jericho, then Bryan, then Jericho again. He was still too pissed to really care about the match other than the technical aspect of it, until he saw John miss an attempt at a suplex and then a body slam. Like a love struck idiot he immediately stuck his head through the ropes trying to see if John was okay. John looked to be fine so he straightened back up and got ready for his turn with Bryan.

When the hot tag came he swung up onto the top rope channeling his anger as power for his flying clothesline at Bryan. While he and Bryan went at it he knew John and Chris were fighting up the ramp to the back. But even with John gone he still couldn't fully get into the match. He did what he was supposed to do with Bryan, including a superplex off the top rope. But after their double take down, he laid there in the ring while AJ did her skip routine, wondering what John was going to say. Cuz he was definitely going to talk to John to find out what the fuck had gone on between him and Kidd.

As AJ climbed the ropes as though she were about to do a dive onto the table she'd set up below, Punk got up and rushed over to play his part in dissuading her. But maybe if he hadn't been so distracted he would have realized the gleeful look in AJ's eyes wasn't just acting. Because while he was waiting for her to smack the hell out of him like planned, she grabbed him and kissed him full on the mouth. He was shocked as shit but the cameras were rolling – so he had to stay in character and let her kiss him until it was time for her to knock him back onto the table. She took forever and tried to push her tongue into his mouth. But Punk kept his lips tightly closed. He might be mad at John but that didn't mean he was going to make out with someone else. Besides, it was starting to look like AJ really was a crazy chic, and he had no intention of giving her any encouragement.

* * *

John watched the end of the match on the monitor near the gorilla. And when he saw AJ kiss Punk anger streaked through him for the second time that night. What the hell was that tiny little Diva doing? John knew damn good and well the script called for her to slap Punk, not kiss him. AJ came through the curtain still skipping. John pinned her with a hard look and her skipping came to a stumbling halt before she headed over to her friend Kaitlyn. John wanted to go and set her straight on her apparently growing crush on Punk, but he had more important things to take care of. He saw Punk slowly walking up the ramp, still selling his crash through the table. It was time for them to talk about the Kidd situation. When Punk came through the curtain John was waiting for him.

"We're going to talk. Right now," he said with just a hint of dominance in his voice. He saw Punk's eyes narrow in anger and actually thought for a moment that Punk would refuse to follow his order. But then his chin came up and he turned and strode to the back of the arena, clearly expecting John to follow him. John followed, relief that Punk was going to talk to him, worry that he'd refuse to forgive him, and the urge to spank Punk's butt for his arrogance all fighting for space in his brain. When he reached Punk he found him sitting cross-legged on a crate like normal, but his arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes snapped with anger.

"So, what are you too fucking good to abstain or even masturbate for a few weeks while you go after someone you claim to want? Or does being a Dom mean you get to fuck whoever you want, whenever you want?"

"That's not what -" John started but Punk cut him off again.

"And don't think because I'm the sub in this relationship that you can give me any lame ass excuse and I'll bow down and fall in line. Cuz I don't work like that."

John's jaw tightened in anger as he tried to stay calm and ignore Punk's angry sarcasm. This conversation would not go well if both of them were pissed off. "Are you going to let me talk now?" Punk swept his arm out, gesturing mockingly for John to speak. John ignored that too. "Yes, I fooled around with Kidd. And yes I was drunk. I'm not using that as an excuse, but I am saying that I made a really shitty judgment call and being drunk off my ass didn't help."

Punk had never been drunk before, but he'd seen friends do things while drinking that they wouldn't normally do while sober. He knew alcohol turned people into idiots. Hell, that was why he didn't drink! But that didn't mean he was automatically going to excuse whatever John had done. "Tell me what happened."

John exhaled hard as he ran a hand over his head. "It was the night we were at the booth alone together for a few minutes. Do you remember?"

Punk nodded. He remembered that night very well. He'd almost given in to John that night even though he still hadn't decided if it was a good idea to again date someone in the company, John Cena especially. But with John's hand on him and the look John had given him, like he was demanding that Punk say yes, he'd almost caved and kissed John right there in public. If his sister hadn't called right then he probably would have gone back to the hotel with John that night. Still, remembering that didn't make him feel any better about the situation they were currently in. "So what? You were pissed you couldn't get any from me and got some from Tyson instead?"

John stepped forward. "Stop assuming and let me tell you what happened. I wasn't pissed, but I was discouraged. I wanted you so bad, but it seemed like you were determined to keep us in the friend zone. Until that moment in the booth when it seemed like you were finally going to say yes. Then your phone rang and you left. I actually felt like maybe I should give up. And I'm not proud of this, but I started pounding shots and beers until I was pretty wasted. Back at the hotel when Tyson knocked on my door I was feeling pretty low and drunk as hell so I made a bad decision and pulled him into my room."

John paused for a minute and Punk had to ask. "How far did it go?"

John closed his eyes for a second. "We kissed. And then he gave me oral. But that's it I swear. My fool brain finally woke up and I pushed him off me and told him to leave. I didn't orgasm and I fucking swear we didn't sleep together."

Punk uncrossed his arms. "Why didn't you tell me?"

John laughed harshly. "I wanted to forget about it. I was embarrassed. But mostly because I was scared as hell that you'd be pissed and not want to be with me."

Punk cut his eyes at John. "You weren't wrong to be scared."

John's heart leaped into his throat. Was Punk about to leave him? John stepped closer and grabbed Punk's thigh. Squeezing that firm flesh that he loved, he spoke. "Phil, look at me." When those green eyes rose to his John noticed they weren't filled with anger any more, but that didn't ease his worry much. "I'm so sorry, baby. If I could take it back I would. But I promise you it was a dumb drunken mistake, one I won't repeat. _Ever_. I love you more than anything and I'll do whatever it takes to show you that. Please believe me when I tell you how sorry I am."

"That pissed me off, John, hearing Kidd say he'd been with you when he had. But it hurt to hear him talk about servicing you," Punk said in a quiet voice.

John understood. Subs could be just as possessive as Doms. "I know. And I'm sorry for that too." He stroked his hand up Punk's leg. "You're the only one I want to control. The only one whose submission I want, need, _crave_ with every part of me, every second of every day. I don't ever want to be with anyone else. Please say you forgive me?"

All of Punk's anger drained from him. How could he stay mad at John after such an honest explanation and apology? And hearing John say how much he wanted his submission made his heart race. Christ, he had it bad for this big blue-eyed man. He loved John and wanted to submit to him just as much as John wanted him to. Punk believed that John knew he'd made a mistake and that it wouldn't ever happen again. So there was really only one thing to say. He looked at John from beneath his lashes. "I forgive you."

John's fingers clenched on Punk's thigh in relief. "You do?"

"Yes. But you'd better not pull any shit like that again. I don't care how mad or upset or _discouraged_ you get. If you're not sleeping with me, your new boyfriend is your left hand. Understand?"

John nodded that he understood before he smiled. "You've got an awful sassy mouth for a sub."

Punk smirked. "You oughta know by now that I've got a lot more to say than just, 'Yes, Sir' and 'No, Sir'. Then he brought his hand up and caressed his chest. "But how 'bout this? I love you, Sir."

John grasped Punk by the back of the neck. "I'll take anything you have to say as long as I get to hear you say that. I love you too, baby." He leaned forward and kissed Punk, almost weak with relief that Punk was still his. When their lips met Punk opened and let him in as always. John stroked his tongue over his lover's, groaning with pleasure as he felt Punk's legs wrap around his waist while they kissed. The kiss grew deeper and hotter, their chests pressing together, and their grips on one another tightening. John finally broke away so they could breathe. He pulled Punk's silver collar out of his pocket. "Does this mean that you still want to wear this?" Punk gave him a look that let John know that he'd just asked an incredibly stupid question. He just laughed and draped the chain around his sub's neck. He looked up from stroking his finger over the silver **X** when Punk asked him a question.

"There's nothing else you want to tell me is there?"

John shook his head as he looked straight at Punk. "No, there's nothing else." He gave Punk a quick kiss. "You want to get out of here?" Punk nodded. "Me too. Let's just grab our stuff and shower back at the hotel."

Back in the locker room there were only a few people left. And Kidd was one of them. When he saw Punk and John walk into the room he jumped up and started throwing things in his bag. Punk laughed to himself as he pulled on his shorts and hoodie. Clearly Tyson had waited around to see if he'd managed to break him and John up. Punk wasn't stupid. He knew that asshole's nonchalant demeanor had been an act. He'd brought up that whole thing on purpose to cause trouble. Punk looked up and saw John waiting on him by the door. He grabbed his bag but before he left he was going to let Kidd know that his play had failed. He whistled to get Tyson's attention. Looking straight at him he pulled his collar from under his hoodie and held it up for the other man to see. With his other hand he popped up his middle finger, pressed his lips to it and blew a kiss to Kidd. Then he turned his back on that little shit and followed a grinning John out the door.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Oh boys! I'm glad you managed to make it through _this_ storm. This chapter's repeat song was Punk's old entrance theme, This Fire Burns. It really helped to write pissed-off Punk. And I don't know if ya'll have ever seen Dirty Dancing, but when John tells Punk there's nothing else to tell I totally pictured Baby as she lies straight to her Dad's face when she asks for money. Lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing. =)


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I know no one and own nothing of the WWE, to my ever-lasting regret. But hey, waldron82 I now own the Daniel Bryan shirt!

**Warning**: There be m/m slash and sex in this here story.

**A/N**: Had a serious case of writer's block. Finally figured it out and then decided to put that as a different chapter anyway. You win muses … you win.

* * *

Warm water streamed from the shower head. The air was thick with steam and scented with the spicy scent of body wash. Punk stepped into the shower, joining John after he'd taken care of a surprise of his own. John smiled at him, the water sparkling on his eyelashes making his blue eyes seem even brighter.

"Get your sweaty self over here so I can clean you up."

Punk grabbed the bottle of body wash off the shelf. "I can do it."

John took the bottle away from him. "True. But I want to do it for you. And you're going to let me."

John tugged Punk to stand in front of him facing the shower head. Punk reached for his body sponge intending to hand it to John.

"Leave it. We won't need that tonight."

Punk saw John set the bottle of wash back down and pick up his shampoo. John squeezed some into his hand and told Punk, "Get your hair wet." Punk ducked his head under the water for a few seconds, getting his hair wet like John told him. He pulled back, shaking the excess water off. John's hands came up and started to rub the shampoo into his hair. As he felt those strong fingers begin massaging his scalp, Punk released a long sigh of pleasure.

"Feel good?"

"That's putting it mildly," he answered. He hadn't had anyone wash his hair for him since he was a kid and it felt amazing. John's short nails lightly scratched across his scalp a few times before he heard, "Rinse." Once more he went under the spray. When he pulled back he looked over his shoulder to see John rubbing shower gel between his palms. John's slick hands smoothed up his neck, washing the sweat away and massaging his tense muscles. Punk started to relax and forget about the drama with Kidd as John moved on to rubbing the soap into his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," John said as he pressed a damp kiss to his ear.

Punk could feel John's apology in every brush of his fingers. "You don't have to keep apologizing. It's forgiven and soon to be forgotten. Especially if you keep rubbing me like this."

More soap went into John's hands then he stroked down his arms. "I just want to make sure you know I mean it. You're my everything, Phil."

Punk turned his head to look over his shoulder and kiss John on the jaw. "I know."

John rubbed his thumbs into Punk's palms, pressing into the fleshy pad of his thumb before sliding his soapy fingers in between Punk's. Punk moaned – he hadn't realized how sensitive his hands were until just now. More soap and then John was washing slow circles across his chest and belly, his fingers teasingly slipping down to brush his shaft. But John didn't grasp him the way he wanted. Instead he stroked his hands around to his back, massaging all the soreness away before those wonderful hands slid down to his butt. He massaged there too then a slick finger dipped inside of him the barest amount, making him gasp. "John…"

"Ssshh." I'm not finished yet."

John came to stand in front of him and then to Punk's surprise dropped to his knees on the shower floor. John soaped up his hands again and then started to wash his legs. "Beautiful, beautiful legs. I would never do anything to jeopardize having the right to slide between them every night."

Punk's belly flipped and his eyes were wide as he watched John kneeling before him. He swallowed thickly as John's hands started to trace from his calves back up to his thighs, higher and higher until his knuckles lightly brushed his sac. "I know you wouldn't." John wrapped his soapy fist around Punk's cock. His hand slid back and forth, cleaning him and in the process making him so hard there couldn't possibly be any blood left in his brain. At this point there was no way he could have explained the difference between your and you're.

"Do you? Maybe I'd better show you how much you mean to me just to be sure you really understand."

John leaned to the side, letting the spray wash away the soap from Punk's front. When Punk realized what John was about to do, he tried to stop him.

"John, you don't have to - -" The rest of what he was about to say was cut off with a sharp gasp as John sucked him into his hot mouth. John had given him head plenty of times before, but he'd never done it in a position of submission on his knees. Seeing his Dom pleasuring him like this was a huge fucking turn on, and made him realize that John would do anything to keep him happy. Punk looked down and saw those bright blue eyes watching him, those full lips sliding back and forth on his cock. "Oh, god …" he breathed out.

John grabbed his hands and brought them to the back of his head. He pressed his hands there tightly signaling without words that he was allowing Punk to take control. Punk was surprised again. Not once had John ever allowed him to take control, not even before he admitted to being a Dom. Punk was tentative at first moving his hips slowly – just barely pushing into John's mouth. But then John took his mouth from him long enough to command, "Do it." John reached around and dug his fingers hard into his ass as he swallowed him back down. Punk gripped his lovers head and started to thrust his cock in between John's lips. It felt different and like he was doing something bad, but he couldn't stop because it felt so good. John's lips tightened on him as he sucked, his tongue rubbing on the sensitive side of his cock. Punk's belly tightened and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. But before he could even think to get the words out John squeezed his balls tight and smacked him hard on the ass. Punk lost it and exploded in a blinding screaming climax that had every muscle in his body clenching tight as he pulsed into John's mouth. Barely knowing what he was doing, he pulled John close against him, holding him there as he kept coming. And every time he thought he was done, John would squeeze him again and suck him hard, drawing forth another rush of pleasure. When he couldn't take it anymore he pulled his sensitive cock from John's mouth and collapsed against the shower wall. He stared down at John who was licking his lips with a devilish gleam in his eyes. John rose back to his feet and with an arm around his waist pulled Punk up against his hard body.

"Did you like that?"

Punk gave a shuddering laugh. "Yeah, although the screaming orgasm I just had should have clued you in to that."

John smiled and pecked him on the lips. "You said you had a request earlier. What is it?"

Punk remembered his teasing John he wanted to be in control earlier that evening. With everything that had happened – it seemed like a long time ago. But if there was any night that John was going to give him what he wanted – it was tonight. "My request is for you to lie still for me and let me pleasure you the way I want, for as long as I want. Will you do that for me, Sir? Please?" Punk knew he was laying it on thick, but he didn't care. He'd bat his eyelashes if that's what it took.

"Yes." John pulled Punk in for a kiss. When Punk's tongue stroked against his he felt his tongue piercing rub against him. John's body jerked in shocked arousal.

Punk pulled back. "Surprise," he whispered.

John cleared his throat. "Yes, I'll lie still for you."

Punk laughed. "You already said yes."

"And I'm saying yes again. Yes. Yes. Hell, yes." He quickly shut off the water. "Let's go," he said, pulling Punk from the shower. John got them both dried off in record time and started pulling Punk towards the bed. Punk followed him without any resistance. John knew the smile teasing at his lover's lips was because of his eagerness, but he didn't care. More than anything he wanted to experience Punk's tongue piercing and if that meant he had to force himself to lie still for his lover then he would do it.

John laid back on the bed while Punk climbed up and straddled his waist. When his lover leaned down to kiss him, he parted his lips gladly, wanting to feel that metal ball brush against his tongue again. Back when he had only watched Punk from afar he'd wondered what that piercing would feel like when they kissed. Now he knew and he loved it. Punk ended their kiss too soon and started to pull away. John started to draw him back, but Punk shook his head.

"Uh-huh. The way _I_ want remember?"

John growled but he let Punk go. Punk licked up his neck, tracing the ball along his vein, making him moan at the feeling. His lover scooted down, licking across his chest as he did until he reached one of his nipples. When Punk sucked him in, flicking that ball against his sensitive nipple he had to clench his fists in the sheets to keep from grabbing him and pulling his head tighter against him. Punk tortured him there until he was breathing hard and straining not to yank Punk underneath him. Then he stopped … and moved onto to his other nipple.

Punk couldn't believe that John was actually laying there for him. It was a heady feeling, having that big body there to do with as he pleased. He released John's nipple to move down his torso. He licked his way across those hard abs, stroking his tongue over the smooth muscles. He made sure to tease and tickle his tongue piercing all along the way, dipping down into the indentions of his waist and his belly button. He was heading for John's cock that was so stiff and hot as it brushed against his face. But he took a few moments to torment the sensitive skin of his pelvis, licking there, dragging the ball on his tongue over the thin skin. Then he finally opened his mouth over John's cock. He licked his way from root to tip, slowly, slowly dragging his piercing up every inch of that throbbing vein.

John thought he was ready for the feeling of his cock in Punk's mouth with that little silver ball teasing him. But he wasn't. Nothing could prepare him for that. Punk sucked him slowly, sliding his piercing across his swollen cock head then rubbing it across his slit. John's hips jacked up off the bed. "Fuck! Baby, that feels so good. Do it again." Punk obeyed and John started thrusting into his sub's mouth. He knew he was failing in letting Punk take the lead as he issued order after order on what he wanted Punk to do to him. But he couldn't help it and with Punk following every single one it just spurred him on. Finally Punk stopped and sat up, still straddling him. He watched Punk bring a finger to his mouth, that silver ball flashing in the lamp light as Punk's tongue came out to lick it and then a second finger. John's breath started coming fast as he realized what Punk was about to do. Punk took his fingers from his mouth and trailed them down his torso before reaching around behind him. John couldn't see but he knew when his sub slid his fingers inside himself because he let out a soft moan. After pleasuring Punk in the shower and everything Punk had done to him tonight, and now watching his sub fuck himself on his fingers right in his lap, John was so hard he felt like he could fuck through a brick wall. "Phil, I want in you. Now." John's voice was so thick with desire he barely recognized himself.

Punk shook his head, still riding his fingers and moaning. "My pace, remember, Sir?"

John dug his thumbs into Punk's inner thighs. "Phil…" he said warningly.

Punk gave him a sly smile then he felt the hand that Punk had been preparing himself with grasp his shaft. "It's not easy, is it?"

"No. But don't think this means I'll take it any easier on you after this."

Punk's smile grew. "I know you won't."

He felt Punk's tight heat start to slide on to his cock and he shuddered, just barely keeping his hips still to allow Punk to do this as he wanted. When he was completely sheathed inside Punk's ass he groaned. He couldn't stop himself from digging his fingers into Punk's hips wanting to urge him on, but thankfully Punk decided not to torture him further. He started moving, rising up and down on his cock, that sweet friction edging him steadily towards climax. John clenched his jaw holding himself back to just enjoy.

Punk leaned forward and planted his hands on John's chest to give himself better leverage as he rode his Dom. John felt so good inside him, filling him and stretching him in the most amazing way. He was hard again and ready to come. But this time he wanted John in control when he did. He lowered himself until his mouth was at John's ear. "I need to come, Sir. I … I need you to tell me to come." That was all it took for John to grab him by the ass and roll them over until he was on top, John slamming his cock into him so hard his whole body tingled from the pleasure. John snatched his wrists up and over his head, taking back control so fast it was clear he'd never really given it up in the first place. John ordered, "Leg up." Punk obeyed, drawing a leg up, John hooking his arm under his knee and raising his leg even higher, opening him up more for his thrusts.

Punk arched back into the pillows. It had been fun to tease John, but this is what he loved, John in control as he stroked inside him. He moaned as John's hand gripped his cock, pumping swiftly. John started pushing inside him faster, the head of his cock brushing over his spot again and again. Punk shivered and felt his orgasm start to rise up his shaft. He silently gave thanks to all the gods when John spoke into his ear, breathing heavily, "I want you to come for me, Phil. Right now!" John rammed his cock into his spot harder than before and Punk couldn't help but let himself go as his Dom ordered. John kept their hips pressed tight together and a half second later Punk felt the heat of John's orgasm flooding his insides. John's big body jerked over his and Punk wrapped his other leg around his waist, needing to be as close to his Dom as he could. When both their cocks had stopped pulsing, but before their heart rates had slowed, John leaned down and kissed him softly. "I love you, Phil." Punk wrapped his freed arms around John's neck and kissed him back. "I love you, too."

* * *

Punk was backstage talking to one of the writers and a road agent. AJ and Bryan were also there as they went over their segment for tonight.

"Okay guys so after AJ kissed Punk last night WWE social media went wild. That was some good thinking on your part AJ."

The Diva smiled serenely. "Thank you. It just came to me at the last second that that would be a good way to make things even more exciting."

Punk rolled his eyes.

"Great. So what we're going to do tonight to have it seem as though AJ doesn't know whose side she wants to take as special guest referee is have her kiss both of you guys."

"Seriously?" Punk asked. He noticed Bryan's face was disgusted, mirroring his own feelings. But the writer forged ahead.

"Yeah. It'll be great. The Universe won't know who AJ wants and it'll really pump things up for you guy's Money in the Bank match."

Daniel finally spoke up. "We can't do just do that with great wrestling?"

Punk scoffed. "Don't be silly Bryan. We're not in Ring of Honor anymore." As they shared an amused glance AJ raised her hand. Punk looked at her like she was in fact crazy. She was raising her hand? Did she think she was in high school?

"Might I suggest that we really make the kisses look good? Otherwise, it won't seem as if I'm desperate to be with one of these guys."

The road agent looked at Punk. "She's got a point."

Punk let out a long sigh. "Fine. Whatever." He glared at AJ. "Just keep your damn tongue to yourself." Everyone looked at Bryan who just shook his head and walked off mumbling, "Brie is gonna kill me."

* * *

Punk stood in the ring with a mic in his hand, his favorite place in the world to be. Well, second favorite place. His favorite was underneath his Dom, cuz damn that man knew how to make him feel good. Punk wanted to roll his eyes at himself for being so obsessed. He needed to focus on what was happening. "... maybe some of that is my fault and I'm sorry. I should have said something sooner." He kept going, some of his words half way serious before Bryan cut in. "What a load of crap!" Punk let Bryan go on through his speech before he stopped it by knocking the microphone out of his hand. Ugh. It was time for him to learn what that beard tasted like through a little bit of transference. AJ started kissing Bryan and he watched, hoping his face showed confusion instead of resignation before exiting the ring. He was not looking forward to having AJ's lips locked on his again. When AJ came after him and turned him around he bent down for her so she could kiss him. But just like last night he kept his mouth closed until he remembered they were supposed to be making it look good. So he opened enough to really kiss her and immediately regretted it as she shoved her tongue in his mouth. He kept his body curled away from hers as the kiss went on … and on. Punk finally had to bring his hands up to touch her so he could signal for her to stop. She let him go and smiled before skipping to the back. For fuck's sake! The things he put up with for this circus. Punk barely kept himself from wiping his mouth on screen and as he looked at Bryan he knew the other wrestler was trying not to do the same thing.

XX

John walked into the arena after The Bash was already under way. Since he wasn't on air until the Battle Royal at the end of the show he'd dropped off Punk and then gone to do a few extra publicity events. He went over and sat next to Cody and Kofi in the monitor bay. "What's on deck?" he asked.

"The love triangle that is Punk, AJ and D-Bry," Kofi responded.

John immediately turned his attention to one of the big TVs. With all of Kidd's bullshit he'd forgotten to talk with AJ to warn her to get over her little crush. But if that girl put her hands or lips on Punk again, he'd definitely be speaking with her tonight. He watched as AJ locked lips with Bryan and Punk left the ring in confusion. Good it looked like AJ wasn't going to be kissing Punk again. But John sat up straight as AJ left the ring and went after Punk. And when she pulled him down into a kiss he shot up out of his chair. "What the fuck?!" As he stared at the screen in angry shock he saw their mouths moving in what looked to be a seriously passionate kiss and finally saw Punk's hand come up to rest on the small of AJ's back. At that point he charged towards the gorilla. He heard Cody as Randy's sub followed behind him.

"John, you know it's only the script!"

"No. Fuck this shit," John threw over his shoulder. He vaguely noticed that Kofi was also trailing behind him, but he didn't care. AJ came through the curtain first but before John could confront her Punk came back wiping his mouth on his wrist tape. John stepped in front of him. "What the fuck was that?"

Punk didn't seem the least bit concerned as he answered. "The WWE version of the Triple Kiss."

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Phil. Why the hell were you kissing her? Again?"

"Writers thought it would be a good way to build up cray-cray AJ as guest referee for the Money in the Bank match."

"So you thought it would be a good idea to go and make out with her without discussing that with your Dom first?"

Punk was starting to get mad. What the hell was John's problem? It's not like he was really making out with AJ. "You weren't here John! So how the hell was I supposed to discuss it with you?" Then he realized they were fighting over something work related. "Besides this is a _career_ issue. Or do you not remember the boundaries?"

"I remember the fucking boundaries," John said in a hard voice. "But that still doesn't mean I'm going to allow some trampy little Diva or anybody else for that matter to kiss and put their hands on my property!"

Now Punk was seriously pissed. John's little display of jealousy last week had been hot and kind of funny. But he was definitely not amused with the way John was talking to him right now, especially since it was over something that had only happened for the cameras! Still, he tried one last time to get John to see how ridiculous this was. "John you're upset that I gave a _fake_ kiss to my _fake_ stalker for our _fake_ storyline. Do you not see the problem here?"

John stood close enough to him for their chests to brush and for Punk to swear he could feel the angry heat coming off his furious lover as John spoke right in his face. "I don't care if it's fake or not. You should have asked for permission to kiss her which I would have refused to give you. So yeah I'm fucking upset!"

Punk got right back up in John's face. "Well you'd better calm the fuck down! Because I am _not_ your goddamn property – not when it comes to this job. So if the script calls for me to kiss AJ _and_ every other Diva _and_ every man in tonight's Battle Royal then that's what I'm gonna do!" Punk glared at John for a moment then he stormed off.

John started to order him back but Cody stopped him. "John let him cool off. If you try to talk to him now you guys are just going to get even angrier with each other." John kept staring at Punk as he walked away but he heard Cody and knew he was right. John finally noticed Kofi standing there with a shocked expression on his face. John ran his hand over his head. "Hey, Kofi. Sorry you had to see us arguing like that. We don't normally fight." But Kofi just gave him a strange look without answering before he left too.

Cody spoke up again. "I'm about to go get some water before I have to be out there. You gonna be alright?"

John noticed AJ heading towards the monitor bay. "Yeah I'll be fine," he said distractedly to Cody. Once Cody left he went after AJ and came up behind her. "Hey, AJ." When the Diva spun around in surprise, John smiled. "Why don't you come and take a walk with me so we can talk?"

"Oh, that's okay. We can talk later. I'm just going to sit over here and watch. Besides, what could we have to talk about?" AJ replied in a nervous rush.

John wrapped an arm around the brunette's shoulders and started leading her away from the crowd. "I insist. And it won't take long. I promise." When he had her alone in a hallway he dropped his arm from around her. "Cut the bullshit, AJ. You know why I want to talk to you. In case you haven't figured it out yet let me make it clear. Punk is mine. So you can quit it with your little flirtations." John stepped forward, unashamedly using his bulk to intimidate her back against the wall. "And you'd better not put your hands, mouth, or any part of you on what belongs to me ever again. Do you understand me?" The Diva nodded with her eyes wide and John continued on. He would never physically threaten a woman, but there was one thing he could use against her. "I've heard Vince has big things planned for you, AJ. It'd be a shame for him to hear you're causing problems back stage and for all that to disappear."

AJ shook her head. "I won't be causing any problems, John. I swear. And I'm sorry if I've offended you. I'll be sure to leave Punk alone from now on."

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other." Then he smiled. "See? I told you this would be a quick talk. Now skip along AJ."

AJ slipped past him and sped off down the hallway but before she could turn the corner John called her name. The girl stopped and looked over her shoulder. John stared hard at her for several moments before he spoke. "Remember what I said, but you'd better keep it to yourself." John watched as she nodded and left. Being the top dog in this company came with a lot of responsibility and headaches, but sometimes it was worth it. Now all he needed to do was find Punk so they could straighten this out.

Punk caught up to Cody in the locker room after he and Bryan eliminated each other from the Battle Royal. He'd successfully managed to avoid John all night, even in the ring, and he wanted to keep that going. "Can I ride back with you to the hotel?" Cody's face looked like he was about to say no. "I swear I'm not asking you to get in the middle of anything. I just want to take a little more time to calm down before I talk to John."

Cody finally shrugged. "I guess that's alright. But hurry up so we can beat traffic."

Punk didn't have a problem with that. He wanted to get out of there before John came back who he knew would be eliminated soon. He was ready to go in under five minutes and he and Cody left the arena.

At the hotel Punk walked down the hall next to Cody.

"What room are you guys in?"

"728." Punk answered.

Cody looked at the room numbers they were passing. "I think your room is at the other end of the hall."

"I know. I'm coming to hang out with you for a while."

Cody stopped walking. "Uh huh. Nope. No way. You're not about to hang with me to hide from your Dom. It's only going to make him madder. Then he'll tell Randy you were with me and I'll be in trouble too."

Punk blew out a frustrated breath. "Cody, right now I couldn't give two shits about John being mad. And I'm not _hiding_. I'm just not ready to talk to him yet."

"No. Trust me, Punk. You don't want to do this. Just go to your room and wait for him."

"Just for an hour, tops. And I promise to ask John not to mention to Randy I was with you." Punk could see Cody starting to change his mind. "C'mon, Cody. Haven't you ever had times where you needed to escape from Randy for a while?"

Cody abruptly started walking again. "Fine! You can come to my room. But you are going to be in so much more trouble. Remember I said so when you can't sit down for a week."

Punk rolled his eyes and followed Cody into his room. He threw his stuff on the floor and sat down at the table while Cody started unpacking his toiletry bag and a change of clothes.

"I'm going to take a shower. Feel free to change your mind and leave while I'm in there."

Punk kicked his feet up on the table. "Nope. Not unless you plan on taking a 61 minute shower, oh Dashing One."

"Whatever, Tiny Trunks," Cody snapped before disappearing into the bathroom.

Punk dropped his feet back to the floor. He wouldn't mind taking a shower when Cody was done. He'd been in such a hurry to get out of there he'd thrown on shorts and a t-shirt over his sweaty ring gear. Now he felt gross, but he figured showering was probably a bad idea. For all he knew John would show up and drag him out of the shower wet and naked down to their room. He thought for a moment about the fun they could have with that scenario before he remembered that he was mad. He couldn't believe John! The man had seriously been angry that he'd script-kissed AJ. Did John not trust him or something? That pissed him off. John should have enough respect for him to know that Punk wouldn't cheat on him, and on live television at that! And to make matters worse, Kofi had been standing there for their argument. He didn't have a problem with Kofi knowing he was the bottom in their love-fest, but he damn sure hadn't wanted Kofi to find out about their Dom/sub relationship in such a negative way. Who knew what Kofi was thinking now? He was gonna have to talk to him. But that would have to happen later. For now, Punk turned on the TV and flipped until he found a Law & Order SVU channel to watch.

Cody came out of the bathroom a few minutes later dressed in an Avengers tee and ratty sweats. Punk didn't even bother calling him a nerd – especially since he had the same shirt. He muted the TV. "Does Randy trust you?" he asked the younger man.

"Yes. Why, you don't think John trusts you?"

"Clearly not! Otherwise he wouldn't have made me play Marilyn to his DiMaggio tonight. I can't believe that he got mad over a TV kiss!"

Cody shook his head. "Punk… I'm not saying John was right to flip out like that but try to understand why he was upset. In his mind you are his. And he was blindsided when he saw you kissing someone else. So he freaked out."

"Went ape shit is more accurate." Punk grumbled.

Cody ignored that. "All I'm saying is that silver chain around your neck that you keep rubbing means that you _are_ John's property, Punk. And he's not going to like anyone else touching you."

"Would Randy have reacted like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe if he didn't have any warning he might have. But it's different with us. We've been together a lot longer than you and John. Your relationship is so new. It's going to take some time before John trusts deep down that you want to belong to him the way Randy knows I want to be his." Then Cody grinned and shook his head. "But you'll notice you don't ever see me involved in any lovers storylines."

Punk huffed a laugh at that. He was still mad, but now he sorta, kinda, _maybe_ understood where John was coming from. He looked at Cody. "Stop being so damn smart."

Cody smirked and buffed his fingernails on his chest. "Beauty and brains in one muscular package. That's me."

"Obviously modesty doesn't come in that package," Punk mocked.

Cody raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Mr. Best in the World?"

Punk grinned. "Alright. We're both cocky sons of bitches." He turned the sound back on and they sat there watching Stabler slap around a suspect until someone knocked on the door.

Punk tensed as Cody went to answer it. He knew without a doubt that it was John. Ready or not, they were about to have this out.

**A/N**: So … AJ's lip-lock leads to no good for our boys. How do you think it's about to play out between them? Review, Review, Review! I swear hearing from you all makes my day as I'm stuck in my 9-5. And feel free to chime in all you heretofore silent lovelies!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: This is not a true story. I do not know anyone or own anything from the WWE. But oh a girl can dream …

**Warning**: BDSM m/m smut

**A/N**: Sorry this is so late! Had a case of the lazies. BUT! I met CM Punk at Wizard World last weekend! I'm still giddy as hell at being able to touch him. Best moment was when he said he liked my derby name. Swoon! He was so cool, and pretty, and awesome, and… Okay I'm done. Check out my pics from my one-day love affair with Punk on my Twitter ShockZ314. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

The knock at the door was no surprise to Punk. He'd known that John would come looking for him before his hour was up. Cody opened it and when he saw John standing there he turned without a word and went straight into the bathroom and closed the door.

Punk watched the traitor go. Not that he needed protection or anything but still, Cody could have at least looked sorry to be ditching him. Punk knew he was stalling looking at John so he finally looked over at him. John was standing there in the open doorway, gripping the door frame with one hand, his jaw clenched tight and those normally soft blue eyes hard with anger.

"Let's go."

Punk was just barely able to resist following that command but he had to look away as he spoke. "Am I not allowed to be angry?" he asked.

"You're allowed to be angry. What you're not allowed to do is run away from me, ignore my texts, and make me look for you all night. Now get your stuff and let's go."

Punk couldn't ignore John's order a second time. He got up, grabbed his two bags, and met John in the hallway, closing Cody's door behind him. He walked down the hallway next to John, neither of them talking. Out of the corner of his eye Punk noticed that John's shoulders were tight with tension. He found himself wanting to say something to ease John's mind. That was definitely a change for him, usually in arguments he was the one his partner was trying to soothe, while he was pretty much indifferent to their efforts. But he didn't say anything and soon they were at their door.

In their hotel room John took Punk's bags from him and tossed them to the side. He backed Punk up against the door and he let him. And he didn't move when John braced his thick forearms on the door on either side of his head, essentially caging him in so that all he could see was his Dom.

"I lost control tonight and that was unacceptable. I apologize for that. I should never have spoken to you that way. But coming in to see that girl with her hands all over you and the two of you kissing." John shook his head as though he were trying to get rid of the memory. "It threw me and I lost it."

Before Punk even realized he was about to speak the words were out of his mouth. "It's okay, John. I understand. I should have at least talked to you about it first."

Some of the tension eased from John's shoulders. "Thank you for saying that." John slipped his hand under the neck of Punk's shirt and pulled out the sliver X. He looked at the pendant in his hands for a long moment before he looked back at Punk. "This is going to sound insanely possessive but I don't fucking care. No one touches you but me. Not AJ, not any other Diva, not any fans. Only me. It's bad enough I have to watch the guys put their hands all over you in the ring, when I know some of them want you. But I'm not going to stand for anything beyond that. I'm not sharing you with anyone, fake or not. Do you understand?"

Punk looked into those blue eyes focused so intently on him. Angry John yelling at him he did not like. But this John – being so brutally honest about his possessive feelings towards Punk had his heart beating hard and his breath coming faster. To have someone want him with such unashamed passion made him feel like he really belonged to John – like he was the center of John's world. And the fact that John desired him so much had him feeling as though he had power over his Dom. In fact, he _knew_ that he did. It was a potent mix that filled his head up, leaving no room for his earlier anger. "I understand John. And honestly I only want you to touch me. But please don't _ever_ flip out like that again. Getting in my face like that without even checking to see what was going on or listening to me totally disrespected me and our relationship. I couldn't help but react the way I did." Punk shrugged. "I don't think I'm submissive enough to just accept you confronting me like that."

John smiled at him, all the anger gone from his eyes. "I know that. And I don't want you to be." John kissed him lightly. "And I promise to never disrespect you like that again."

"Thank you. That's all I ask." This time he was the one to lean forward and initiate a kiss. Their lips met, communicating their love and apology, their tongues sliding softly against one another until John pulled back.

"I wish you still had your piercing in."

Punk grinned. "That's only for special occasions, like your mom's fine china."

Those sexy dimples came out as John smiled back at him. "You're what's fine, baby."

"And you're corny." Punk shot back, rolling his eyes.

John just laughed and kissed Punk again. But this time when he ended the kiss his face was serious. "You've earned a punishment tonight, baby."

Punk's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"

"You hid away from me all night, Phil -"

"I wasn't _hiding_," Punk started to cut in but at a look from John he shut up. Besides, he _had_ been hiding, even though he was too mule-headed to admit it to anybody but himself.

"You knew I'd be looking for you. Which is why you rushed out of the arena so fast you're still in your ring gear right now. And you made the decision to kiss AJ. Those were your choices – and now you have to accept the consequences." John stepped back. "Go get cleaned up. I'll be out here waiting for you." Punk grabbed his bag and headed for the bathroom. Just before he closed the door, John spoke.

"And when you're done don't even bother putting on any clothes."

Punk didn't respond but his cock hardened in a rush as he went in the bathroom and closed the door.

Once Phil was shut up in the bathroom John sighed in relief. They'd made it through another fight and better still, Punk accepted his crazy possessiveness. But he was still worried, so after he gathered what he'd need tonight he pulled out his phone and started texting.

Cena: I think it's time 2 wrap up the Punk, AJ, Bryan angle.

It took a few moments but his phone lit up with a reply.

SMH: Why do you care?

Cena: Why do u think?

SMH: Okaaay. Of those three I'm guessing Punk?

Cena: Yes

SMH: Oooh, sexy.

Cena: Funny. & not at all sexy right now with us arguing over this crap

His phone buzzed with her response before his phone had the chance to fade and lock.

SMH: It's just storyline, John.

Cena: Yeah & we know storylines never break up or lead 2 relationships. How's Hunter, btw? Has he talked 2 Chyna lately?

This time there was a longer pause before a response pinged in.

SMH: I'll wrap it up right after MITB.

Cena: Thank u. & AJ is not 2 touch Punk again

SMH: Done.

Punk came out from the shower naked as John had ordered. John tossed his phone up on the night stand. He could tell by Punk's sulky expression that he was still upset at being punished, but the already half-hard state of his cock told him that he was looking forward to it. When Punk didn't immediately approach him John narrowed his eyes. "Come here," he said in a hard voice. After the barest hesitation, which of course John noticed, Punk walked over to him. John picked up the red leather collar and clasped it around Punk's neck as he told his sub what his punishment would be. "You will not be allowed to orgasm tonight. And you'll be restrained all evening – even while you're asleep. Do you understand?"

After Punk's nod John hooked his finger under his sub's collar and dragged him closer for a kiss. He kissed him roughly, pushing his tongue between Punk's lips. And Punk submitted to him, his head falling back, but keeping his hands at his sides like a good boy since John hadn't said that he could touch him. John ended the kiss with one last nip to Punk's bottom lip, but he grasped his lover's cock and started to stroke. "Undress me." He kept stroking his lover as Punk undid his belt buckle and then opened his shorts. John squeezed Punk's shaft making him gasp and hurriedly push his shorts and underwear off.

"Can you let me go so I can take your shirt off?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he said squeezing harder this time.

Punk closed his eyes and bit his lip. "I'm asking you, Sir."

John moved his hand on his lover a few more times until Punk's hips started moving with him. Then he let him go and dropped his arm to his side. Punk took several deep breaths then he pulled John's shirt up and off. But John wasn't completely undressed yet and he waited for Punk to finish. He saw a flash of defiance in his lover's eyes before he lowered his head and sank to his knees. John smiled to himself as Punk removed his socks and shoes. He'd have all that defiance out of his sub by the end of the night. "Get up and go lay down with your arms up over your head." He watched as Punk moved just slow enough for it to be obvious that he was still ticked about his coming punishment. John didn't say anything. If Punk wanted to dig himself into a hole, making his punishment worse, then John was going to let him.

When Punk was in position like he'd ordered, John got on the bed and straddled his waist to tie the black silk scarves around Punk's wrists. He tied the bonds tighter than he normally would have, giving them a jerk as he did so. John moved higher up Punk's torso until his cock was right in front of his lips. "Suck me." Punk's mouth opened, but from the expression in his eyes, John didn't know whether his sub was going to suck him … or bite him. John raised a brow in warning and pushed into Punk's mouth. He braced his hands on the headboard, moving his hips so that he slowly slid in and out. Punk's tongue licked at him, but he still wasn't fully following his command. "I said suck me," John ordered again as he thrust forward hard. Punk moaned as he closed his eyes, raising his head up to do as he was told. John rested his weight on his knees as he indulged in the feeling of Punk's hot, wet mouth sliding back and forth on his cock. "That's good, baby. I like it when you do as you're told." Punk's eyes flashed open at that, defiance still glittering in their green depths. John felt Punk's teeth scrape the underside of his cock and he knew it hadn't been an accident. So he fucked his hips forward hard and fast until Punk was moaning and sucking him just as quickly, this time without any teeth. But soon John could see that Punk was starting to strain to keep his head up so he pulled his cock out of his lover's mouth. He was surprised when Punk licked his bottom lip and whispered, "More." John denied him. "I won't be coming in that pretty mouth of yours tonight. Your tight little ass is gonna take all my cum." Punk's fingers clenched in his restraints and John smiled – he knew how his words affected his lover.

He moved back down Punk's body, grabbing the lube he'd put on the nightstand earlier as he did so. John lined their cocks up and drizzled the cool liquid over both of them before capping the bottle and throwing it on the floor. Punk gasped and his hips started rolling as John grasped both their cocks in his fist and started stroking. "You're so hard, Phil. I want you to think about the fact that you have to stay like that all night. No matter how bad you want to come, I won't let you." John took his finger, slick with lube and started pressing inside his lover. He leaned down to whisper against Punk's ear. "Even when I'm fucking you hard and coming deep inside you – you still won't be allowed to come." John added another finger as Punk moaned. "You'll have to hold it back … all night."

Punk groaned and closed his eyes. He was already on the verge of orgasm and John telling him what he wouldn't be allowed to have wasn't helping. But he accepted his punishment and when John replaced his fingers with his cock he didn't resist. John slipped inside him and he relaxed so that he could get past that first tight ring of muscles.

John finally sank all the way inside his lover. He reached down and grasped the back of Punk's thighs, pushing his legs up until his knees touched his chest. John started to thrust slowly. "Are you going to be kissing any more Divas?" Punk shook his head no, but when John slammed his cock into his spot he gasped and answered appropriately. "No, Sir." John started moving his hips faster, leaning down on Punk so that his legs bent even further back. "And will you be running away from me again?" Punk shook his head faster this time, as he was starting to pant and writhe beneath him. "No, Sir I won't. I promise." John released one of Punk's legs, but ordered him to keep it up there. He took Punk's cock into his hand, pumping fast. "And will you be dragging your feet to follow my orders the next time you pout at getting punished?"

Punk sucked on his lip ring but desperate moans still spilled from his lips. John moved both his hand and his hips even faster as he waited for Punk's response. Finally those green eyes opened and focused right on John. "Actually, I probably will," he forced out. John had to laugh. "Well, you get points for honesty," he said before kissing him fiercely. He thrust his tongue between Punk's lips, dominating his mouth just as he dominated his body. He ate up all of Punk's whimpers and moans as he pushed his sub hard.

John broke their kiss so that he could watch his beautiful sub struggle to hold back his orgasm. Punk was flushed and sweating as he strained against his bonds, but he was doing like John asked, like he'd _ordered_, accepting his punishment and fighting not to come. Knowing that Punk was doing this for him – that Punk willingly allowed him to control his mind and body had his cock hard with love and power. He started thrusting with brutal strength against Punk's spot and jacking him even faster until Punk was shouting and cursing, begging to be allowed to come. John's back tightened and his balls drew up as Punk's ass started to clench on his cock. "Don't you fucking dare come," he ordered from between gritted teeth. He thrust hard into Punk one last time, making his lover throw back his head and scream. John's cock pulsed and then he was coming in strong steady waves, releasing deep into his lover. He groaned, feeling the pleasure course throughout his body until he finally collapsed on top of Punk. He sucked at his lover's neck above his collar as he enjoyed the last little aftershocks of his orgasm. After a few minutes he raised himself off of Punk and let him drop his legs down. He could tell by the wild look of desperation on Punk's face that he'd managed to hold back. But John wasn't finished with him yet.

"Turn over."

Punk looked at him in disbelief but when John narrowed his eyes he struggled to flip over onto his belly. "Up on your knees. And don't you fucking hesitate this time, Phil. I mean it." Punk immediately got his knees underneath him, thrusting his ass up in the air. John rubbed his palm across that smooth ass before he slapped it hard. Punk jerked and gasped. "I wasn't going to spank you tonight, but your little defiant hesitations gave me no choice." He cracked his hand across his sub's ass again and again, spanking him until his cheeks were red and Punk's hips were moving into his slaps. He stopped but he didn't give his lover a break – he pushed back inside him and wrapped his hand back around his cock.

Punk cried out as his cock jerked hard in his Dom's grasp and he felt a thick drop of pre-cum slid down his shaft. Words he never thought he'd say burst from his lips. "If you're gonna fuck me again, please give me a cock ring." John started moving inside him and he begged desperately. "I don't … I don't think I can hold back again. Please."

"You earned this punishment by yourself and you'll carry it out by yourself."

Punk sobbed but he didn't ask again. He was surprised when John's hips stilled against him.

"Who do you belong to, Phil?"

He answered as he always did. "I'm yours, Sir. Only yours."

John's voice was deep and low as he spoke again. "Prove it. Put your pleasure out of your head and focus on mine. Make me come, baby."

Punk rested his head on his forearms breathing hard. He didn't know if he could do like John asked, but he would try. Jesus, in this moment he felt like he would do anything for his Dom. He started moving, fucking himself onto John's cock. But his movements were jerky and as John started squeezing his shaft again he completely lost his rhythm. He hung his head feeling defeated. He wanted to please John but his body was trembling with the orgasm he was still fighting to hold back and he couldn't concentrate on anything else. John's hand stroked up and down his back.

"It's okay, baby. You can do it. Remember you're pleasing your Dom. That's all you have to do."

Punk bit his lip and started to move again. John kept rubbing his back and he fell into the rhythm of those strokes. He focused on John's breathing and as it started to come faster and heavier he used that as his cue to speed up.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. Please me, Phil. I'm close to coming again."

Punk moaned and moved even faster. John was still stroking his cock, but his head was filled only with how he was making his Dom feel. He spread his legs wide and pushed back on John as fast as he could until John's fingers moved to clenching his hips, helping him move. "Fuck! I'm coming, baby! Gonna fill you up." John's hips started thrusting against his then he felt the heat of his Dom's release spilling inside him. He pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his cry as his own orgasm suddenly shot back to the forefront of his mind. But John grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up. "I want to hear you. Scream for me, Phil." That was one order he was happy to follow. If he couldn't come he needed to get a release somehow. He screamed as John finished coming inside him. Then he stayed there gasping and shaking as he fought harder than ever before to keep from coming.

After John caught his breath he pulled out of Punk and rolled over onto his back. He sat up to untie his sub. "Go and get me a bottle of water," he ordered in a low voice. Punk kneeled up and nodded. His body was tight with unreleased tension, but this time he immediately followed John's command. John watched him cross the room to the hotel fridge. His lover's back and chest were damp with sweat and the backs of his thighs were wet from the cum he'd released into his ass. As Punk walked back to the bed, John saw that his shaft stood up hard and straining, the head swollen and slick with pre-cum. John knew his sub was still on the verge of the orgasm that he wouldn't be receiving tonight. To him, right then, Punk had never looked more beautiful. That he was the one that had caused him to look like that had him half-hard with arousal. When Punk reached the bed John ordered him to kneel and again Punk immediately complied. John waited for a moment, not saying anything, until finally Phil realized what he wanted and extended the bottle of water to him. This time John drank first and when he was finished he didn't immediately give the water back to his lover. Instead, he brushed his fingers over Punk's flushed cheek and stroked his thumb over those normally thin lips that were now swollen from his kisses.

"I'm the only one who touches you, Phil," he whispered.

Punk nodded, sucking John's thumb into his mouth and rubbing his cheek against John's palm. "Yes, Sir. Only you."

John held the bottle of water up for Punk to drink from. When his sub had finished it off John threw it aside. "Get up here." Punk crawled back into the bed and laid down, but he protested as John went to retie his bonds. "I said all night, baby," John said firmly. This time he tied Punk's arms with enough slack to be able to move around and sleep comfortably.

When John was done tying him up, Punk rolled over to face him. He was still hard and aching for release. He wrapped his leg around John's hip, rubbing his cock against John's stomach. "I need to come, Sir, please." He kept thrusting his hips as he unashamedly begged, the friction of his cock rubbing against John's hard abs giving him some small relief. "Please, Sir. Please let me." He gasped as he felt another bead of pre-cum spill from his cock head. He looked at John, knowing his eyes were filled with pleading. "I swear I'm sorry. Please … just let me come." Punk saw a muscle tic in John's jaw and his blue eyes heated with arousal. John's hand slipped down to his ass, pulling him up tight against him, trapping his cock between their bodies. Punk gasped again as John squeezed his ass hard and he thought his Dom was going to give him what he wanted. But John only kissed him softly on the lips and said no. He closed his eyes, wanting to scream and cry with frustration. His orgasm was there, just under his skin and it had his cock throbbing so hard it was all he could think about. John told him to turn over and accepting John wasn't going to give in he did, backing up against his lover until his back was pressed to John's chest and he felt John's semi-hard cock press against his ass. He started trying to put his orgasm out of his head, but he cried out as John's fist wrapped around his shaft. "I won't be able to sleep like this," he said in a shaky voice. John pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before whispering in his ear.

"Ssssh. You'll be fine. Go to sleep, baby."

John stroked him lightly a few times and Punk bit his lip to stop a moan from escaping. Eventually John's hand stilled and he just held Punk with a gentle grip. Somehow that comforted him and although he was still craving release John's soft kisses on his neck and shoulders lulled him to sleep.

Punk's breathing deepened as he fell asleep but John was still wide awake. He lay there wondering if he'd done the right thing in telling Stephanie to kill the program with Punk and AJ. He knew Punk would probably be furious if he found out and now John had another secret that he was keeping from his lover. But he and Punk had argued twice in as many days. And AJ was a cute girl with an admittedly great body who had a crush on his boyfriend. What if Punk decided he no longer wanted to be John's sub and instead would rather be with a woman? That was a worry that often popped up into John's head. Punk was so strong and submission was new to him. Although John knew his lover's submission was deep and real, he also knew that at any time Punk could very well decide he no longer wanted to submit and could walk away. And the flirtations of AJ could be what lead to that happening. So many times programs on screen lead to romance off screen. Stephanie and Hunter were just the most famous example. A tense knot of fear settled in his stomach at the thought of losing Punk. John tightened his arm around his sleeping lover, but he couldn't even smile as Punk snuggled back closer against him like he always did. He would do whatever he had to do to keep Phil as his own. With those thoughts in mind he couldn't help but feel that he'd done the right thing tonight by texting Steph. He started to relax knowing that AJ would have no more reasons to put her hands on his sub. Yeah, he'd done the right thing. John closed his eyes and slept.

* * *

**A/N**: I think Punk may have learned his lesson! But did John do the right thing? Thank you for reading and I hope to see your reviews. I appreciate every one of them! PS next chapter posts Saturday. =)


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: I know no one and own nothing from the WWE. Nothing in this story is true … that I know of.

**A/N**: I love how you guys all felt so bad for Punk! Lol. And some of you were pretty strongly either for or against John's secret texts. Thank you for writing in to let me know your thoughts!

**Warning**: I think you know by now there's cursing and gay sex in this yarn.

* * *

Punk woke up and the first thing he noticed was that he was hard. Again. Or fuck, for all he knew his erection from last night had never really gone down. John was stroking him softly and when he shifted he realized that he was no longer bound to the headboard.

"Good morning, baby."

Punk stretched. "Good morning."

John licked a slow path up his neck to his ear. "The night's over, Phil. Do you know what that means?"

Punk just moaned softly. He was hoping it meant his punishment was over but he was too distracted by John's hands on him to say.

"It means you don't have to hold back anymore, baby. You get to come. Would you like that?"

Punk pushed his hips back against John. "Yes, Sir. I would. I really, really would."

"I thought you might," he said as he started moving his hand faster and tighter on his shaft.

"That feels so good," Punk whispered.

"That's all I've ever wanted to do, baby. Make you feel good."

Punk reached back and tried to touch John as well, but John blocked him with an elbow.

"No. This is just for you. Just wanna make you happy right now," he said as he stroked his lover even faster.

Punk's hips were rolling, pushing his shaft through John's fist and then pressing his ass back against John' hard cock. "I'd be happier if you were inside me, Sir."

John groaned. "Don't say that, baby. I can't hold back if you tell me that."

"It's true," Punk gasped as John thrust his hips against him.

John groaned again and bit Punk on his shoulder. "Hand me the lube so I can fuck you and fill you up with my cum again. Will that make you happy, little sub?"

Punk was reaching for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand even before he managed to answer John. He passed it behind him quickly, eager to have John inside him and give him the release he'd been denied the night before.

John coated himself with the slippery liquid. He gripped himself to slick the lube over his entire shaft. He was definitely ready to be inside his lover again, but first he wanted to make sure he was prepared. He pushed one finger slowly inside Punk's ass. Punk gasped.

"I need more, Sir. I need you."

John clenched his jaw tight as he kept his finger inside his lover. This time he was determined not to give into Punk's begging so that he could make sure he didn't hurt his sub. "Not yet, let me get you ready."

"I'm ready. Just, fuck me. _P__**lease**_.

John's voice was rough as he strained to hold himself back from just shoving himself inside of his lover. "No. We're going to wait."

But Phil wasn't able to wait. He was so aroused from having to hold back his orgasm last night and with John's hand pumping his cock and his thick finger brushing his spot it was too much for him to take. With a choked cry, his hips shot forward and he was coming all over his Dom's hand … and without his permission. His release was so strong he was aware of nothing but pleasure. He didn't realize he was screaming John's name. He didn't realize that he was digging his fingernails into John's thighs so hard that he drew blood. All he knew was that his entire body was bursting with pleasure and he just rode it out until he finally started to come down. When he did he realized what he'd done. "Oh, fuck. I'm sorry! I didn't mean – I couldn't stop it-" He broke off his practically incoherent apology with a gasp as John suddenly pushed his cock inside him, filling him all the way up.

"It's okay, Phil," he said as he grasped his hip holding him still for his slow steady thrusts. "It's okay," John repeated as he kept apologizing. John closed his teeth lightly on his earlobe. "Just don't do it again." Then he bit down hard. Punk's cock immediately hardened again as John continued his pace. Faster than he'd thought possible he was back on the edge of orgasm and he was moaning – matching the movement of his hips to his Dom's. Thankfully, John was breathing hard in his ear, telling him to come again. And as John pushed hard into that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him he did, John groaning deep and long with his own release.

Punk blew out a deep breath. "Thank you."

John pulled his head around for a kiss. "You're welcome."

* * *

John and Punk stepped out of their room just as Rosa was coming out of the room next to theirs. Her eyes skittered away from both of them and her face blushed bright red.

"Hey guys!" she said in an overly excited voice – still not looking at them.

Punk glanced at John. Clearly their secret was out. "Buenos Dias, Rosa," Punk said with a smirk. "Did you have a good night?"

"Oh yeah I did. How about you two, do anything fun?" Then her eyes got huge and she stood there with her mouth open as she realized what she'd said. She gave an awkward little wave and then turned and walked off.

Punk shrugged. "Huh. Guess the cock's out of the bag."

"Did you have to put it like that?" John said laughing.

"Well maybe if you hadn't come running after me yesterday all worked up she wouldn't have figured it out."

John reached out and tugged at his pendant. "I'd like to think it was your sweet screams last night that clued her in. You know, from when you were being spanked for being such a bad boy."

Punk felt his face flush almost as red as Rosa's had. He turned around and headed for the lobby with John's laughter trailing behind him.

He took a seat in one of the lobby chairs and watched as John threw him an amused glance on his way to checking them out at the front desk. He heard a voice behind him.

"Wow, you can sit. I'm shocked."

He turned in his seat as Cody leaned on the back of his chair.

"Guess John took it easy on you."

Punk turned back around. "Fuck off, Cody." He wouldn't call the mega-super-giant case of blue balls John had made him go to sleep with easy.

Cody straightened up. "Well, well. Guess he didn't take it too easy on you after all. I hate to say I told you so … but I'm gonna."

Punk looked at him. "I hate to break my word on telling John not to mention to Randy who was with … but I'm gonna."

The laughter faded from Cody's face. "Alright, man. I'm sorry. I'll lay off."

Punk crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction. At least he'd managed to get the last word on somebody this morning.

* * *

"So John lost his shit over that AJ kiss, huh?"

Punk was working out with Kofi before the night's house show. He rolled his eyes. "Just a little bit."

Punk noticed Kofi didn't look at him as he asked, "So are you guys okay now?"

"Yeah."

Kofi let go of the handles on the deltoid machine. "And you just forgave him?"

Punk stopped bouncing the medicine ball he was working with. "Yeah, I did. Why? What's up, man?"

Kofi looked at Punk. "I heard what John said – about you being his property. And you needing to check with your Dom before kissing AJ."

Punk started bouncing the ball again. "I know you did. I'm surprised you waited this long to say something."

Kofi looked at him strangely. "I'm surprised _you_ didn't bring it up. I'm worried about you man. You've changed since you got serious with Cena. You aren't pushing for what you want backstage anymore. You look to him first whenever someone asks you something." Kofi's voice started to rise and he was clearly upset. "And you just forgave him after flipping out over some fake TV shit? That's not you."

Punk was taken aback. He hadn't been expecting this reaction from Kofi. He'd expected him to be surprised but then they'd both laugh over it. "Kofi, man. What's up? Why are you all worked up over this?"

"I just don't think you being in a relationship with someone who calls you his property is a good idea. You can't be equals if he's your Dom and you're just his submissive."

Punk slammed the ball down hard. "What the fuck, Kofi? What do you mean, _just_ his submissive? It's not like that. Yeah, John is in control when we're together – but it's not like he's the boss of me in anything else."

Kofi shook his head. "It might not be like that now. But just wait. I bet shit like him getting pissed over your kiss with AJ is just gonna keep happening. And before you know it he'll be telling you what you can and can't do all the time."

Punk didn't say anything as Kofi's remark set off something in his head.

Kofi's voice quieted. "And don't you think it's strange that Cena all of a sudden wants to control you when you're on the verge as becoming as big a Super Star as him?"

After that statement Punk just stood there with the ball forgotten in his hands.

* * *

Punk sat on his bus as it sped towards the next arena. He wasn't listening to his headphones or watching anything on TV. He just sat there with a feeling of restless disquiet. He didn't want to think that his conversation with Kofi had him doubting his relationship with John, but he was definitely thinking over their recent fight. He didn't like feeling restless like this. Especially since he'd been so calm these last few months with John. But now his peace was gone, which left his fist clenching and his foot tapping as the miles quickly passed. He started to text his boyfriend but when he looked at the time he knew John would still be busy with his appearance for the day. He started drumming his fingers on the table for a minute before he forced himself to stop. Whatever was bothering him wasn't going to be solved by nervous fidgeting. He'd either have to put it out of his head or sit down with John and work it out when they were together.

* * *

It was the last RAW before Money in the Bank. John was with Show, Kane, and Jericho going over their match for tonight when he felt something hit him on the back of the neck. Looking down at the floor, he saw a piece of Twizzler. He looked over at Punk and saw him sitting slouched in a chair chewing slowly on the waxy red candy. He arched his brow in question. When Punk didn't say anything, only continued eating, the Twizzler steadily getting shorter, John turned back around. After a minute he was hit again. John ignored it this time and kept talking. They'd be ending their match with him knocking Show down with the ladder, but they had to figure out how it would be brought in. As the face – he couldn't be the one to do it. A third piece of candy hit him, this time on the head. He spun around and narrowed his eyes at his sub in warning, but Punk just shrugged and swallowed what looked like the last piece of Twizzler. Once more John turned back around to finish his conversation. But as soon as he did he was beaned again. He closed his eyes for a minute and sighed. Then he looked at the guys. "Excuse me. I've got somebody who needs my attention." He caught Jericho roll his eyes as he turned away.

John went to stand over Punk. "That's one way to get my attention."

Punk smirked. "Is that what I was trying to do? I just thought I was trying to liven up that meeting of the three biggest doofs in the WWE."

"Only three?"

"Oh … and Jericho."

John smiled, amused at whatever mood Punk was in. "C'mon. Let's go for a walk." John stepped back and waited as Punk slowly stood up. They walked towards the back, not touching, but not hiding that they were going off together either. When they were closeted in a room together Punk leaned back against the door and John cupped the back of his neck. "What's up?"

Punk shrugged. "Don't know. Just feel like I got an itch that I can't scratch."

"Is that right? Let me see if I can take care of that for you." John slid his hand down into Punk's loose shorts. He didn't have his ring gear on yet and he wasn't wearing any boxers. So his hand came in immediate contact with what he was looking for.

Punk bit his lip as John started to pump his fist on his swiftly hardening cock. "That's not what I meant."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," Punk said while shaking his head.

John laughed low and kept stroking until Punk was hot and hard in his hand. Pretty soon his lover was gasping and thrusting his hips forward. John pumped faster and leaned in to suck Punk's earlobe into his mouth. "You gonna wait for permission to come like a good boy this time?"

Punk groaned. "You are never going to let that go, are you?"

John bit his ear and then squeezed him hard. "Nope. But if you do it again I get to think of a really good punishment for you."

Punk choked out a laugh. "I don't think I'm ready for another round of punishment just yet."

John laughed too before kissing Punk hard and seriously moving his hand on him. Punk's fingers came up and dug into his back. John broke their kiss long enough to give his sub permission to come and with another gasp Punk was releasing into his hand. He kept stroking to squeeze out every drop of pleasure he could from his lover. Finally Punk collapsed back against the door.

John leaned his forehead against his sweaty neck. "Change your flight and come stay with me in Florida after you're done with your PR stuff."

Punk nodded, still breathing hard after his release. "Okay. But you'd better have more than one pack of Twizzlers there this time."

"You don't need any more candy after the way you threw it at me today. I ought to spank your butt for that."

"You could. Or you could do other things to it. Things that make me happy." He sucked his lip ring as he looked at John. "Don't you want to make me happy, Sir?"

John groaned and kissed him. "Don't tempt me with being inside you when you know we don't have time." John kissed him once more before he pulled away. "Did that scratch your itch?"

Punk sighed. "Yes." But even as he said it – he knew that for the first time he was lying to John. He was still bothered by his conversation with Kofi, but he didn't say anything to John.

* * *

The lights over the ring were hot as usual, making him sweat and the 30 pound hunk of gold around his waist amplified it. He was working his segment with AJ. He'd made it clear to her there wouldn't be any more kissing so he was comfortable as he listened to AJ go through her lines on how much she thought Punk cared for her. But he noticed that AJ had a little tremble in her voice and when it came time for her to propose she took several huge steps away from him first. He didn't think he'd been firm enough to scare the tiny little Diva, so what was that all about? He forgot about it as Bryan's music hit and he came out shouting, No! This was the last build up before their match at Money in the Bank – he was determined to make this segment good. He knew nothing would top what he and John had put on last summer but he and Bryan could definitely put on a hell of a clinic.

* * *

John lounged back on the couch. Punk lay stretched out next to him with his head in his lap. They were at his house watching the Cubs play. Punk had tried to get him to go for a run before the game but he'd made such a face that Punk laughed and told him, "When the zombie apocalypse comes you'll be dead and I'll outrun and outlast all those brain eating motherfuckers." He'd given in just to show Punk he wasn't that bad of a runner, but Punk had still been running lightly and chatting like he was just walking when John was out of breath and ready to head back. Now they were back at the house and after a shower and lunch they were relaxing watching baseball. Of course Punk was cursing at the TV since his Cubbies were down. They started to put up a little bit of a fight but the 9th inning ended with a Cubs loss. Punk grabbed his Cubs hat off the coffee table and threw it at his big screen.

"Hey!" John protested. "Watch it."

Punk laughed. "Sorry. I love my team. But damn they drive me crazy." A Gliden paint commercial came on showing people who looked way too happy to be painting. The last shot was of a bright red door closing. As the image of that red door faded from the screen, Punk was reminded of the locked door upstairs. He turned over and looked at John. "John?"

"Yeah baby what's up?" John responded. Punk saw John wasn't really paying attention since he was flipping through the channels for something to watch.

"What's in that locked room?" he asked.

John tensed underneath him.

**A/N**: Uh-oh … things are a brewin' in Punk's head…

Thank you for all your reviews! HeartDeNijs was my 200th reviewer and she got to pick a one shot. Look for a Punkena shortie soon! I gotta get home from Atlanta where I'm watching the WFTDA Championships first. =)


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with the WWE. But my friends always give me wrestling related gifts, which I think is adorable. =)

**Warning**: m/m smut, cursing, smut, and smut. Did I mention the smut?

**A/N**: I'm dedicating this chapter to Athena MacG. She was the first one to pick up on the locked door seven chapters ago and she's mentioned it several times since. I hope this is worth the wait. Thanks for reviewing Athena MacG! And oh my gawd Survivor Series was awesome. LOVED the Triple Threat Match finish!

* * *

Punk felt John's leg tense underneath him. Now he was really curious. "What's in there John? I know it's not your mummified mother sitting in a rocking chair. Is it the chopped up body parts of your old boyfriends?"

John huffed a laugh. "You're disgusting."

Punk sat up. "And you're avoiding. What's in there?"

John looked at him for a long moment. "I'll show you." He stood up and held his hand out. "Come with me."

Punk grabbed John's hand and let him pull him up from the couch. He followed John up the stairs and down the hallway, beyond curious by this point. When they came to the locked door John stopped.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was a room being remodeled. I had this built for us." He unlocked the door with the key he'd picked up on their way upstairs but he didn't open the door. Instead he turned and kissed Punk deeply, his thumb stroking the skin under his collar.

When John ended the kiss, Punk looked at him in confusion. What would John have had built for them?

"You'll have to undress before you can enter this room."

Punk grinned. "Why do I almost always have to be naked for one of your surprises?" he said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

John's face remained serious at Punk's teasing and his voice was hard. "You'll always be naked for this room, Punk. And you'll always have to remember your place as my sub. Do you understand?"

Punk's lips parted in surprise – it was rare that John was so stern with him. But he didn't mind. He lowered his head and finished undressing. "Yes, Sir. I understand." When he was nude, John pushed the door open. His Dom hooked his finger under his collar and pulled him inside the room. John turned on the lights and Punk got his first look at John's secret room.

He should have known what it was going to be when John asked him to remove his clothes, but somehow he was still surprised. It was a bondage playroom. His first thought was that the room was beautiful. And that may have been a strange thought, but it was true. The walls were padded with a honey-toned leather and the floors were cream marble threaded with veins of dark chocolate. Large windows let in the late afternoon sunshine, but Punk could tell from the tinting that you wouldn't be able to see into the room from the outside. A large bed dominated one wall of the room. Punk noticed immediately that the frame was made up of wrought iron bars – with plenty of spaces to chain him up. On another wall hung a framed picture of him and John in the ring, blown up to poster sized and printed in sepia tones. In it he was looking out at the crowd, but the photographer had caught John gazing at him with what was clearly longing on his face. That must have been taken last year during their feud. There was a tall dark wood cabinet that he guessed held things like lube and restraints. But there were several other things that definitely caught his eye. A wall hung with whips, floggers, and paddles. A padded spanking bench. A large St. Andrew's Cross. And right in the center of the room a heavy and solid looking frame that had black leather cuffs dangling from the top and a pulley system that would raise or lower the restraints as John chose.

He turned to look at John who was standing there watching him. "You had this built for us?"

John nodded slowly. "Yes. I told you I've never collared anyone before, so there was no need to have my own play room. But when I finally managed to catch you I knew I wanted us to have a place to indulge ourselves."

Punk's hand rose to touch John, but he hesitated. John had said that he needed to remember his place as a sub – which meant he wasn't allowed to touch his Dom without permission. But John grasped his hand and pulled him into his body. "Why did you wait so long to show me this?"

"I wanted it to be completely finished first. And … sometimes I still worry that all of this will be too much for you."

John didn't say "and you'll leave." But Punk knew that was the real end to that sentence. He was surprised at the show of vulnerability from John. He forgot about the doubts that had sprung up in his head from Kofi. Right then he wanted nothing more than to comfort his Dom and let him know he wanted to be with him. "Show me, Sir. Show me what you want to do to me."

The vulnerability dropped from John as though it had never been, replaced by the commanding Dom presence that Punk expected. John wrapped his hand around his throat and walked him backwards to the center of the room. As he walked Punk finally noticed that the floor, which should have been cool from the A/C, was warm under his bare feet. He mentioned it to John.

John smiled at him. "Heated floors. I want you focused on what I'm doing to you baby, not shivering from the cold." Then he brushed a soft kiss across his lips. "And I would never want you to be uncomfortable."

Punk couldn't believe how much this man cared for him. They reached the frame and when John raised his arms over his head to put the restraints on his wrists, he allowed it without the slightest bit of hesitation. Punk saw a pleased smile curl John's lips as he stared up at Punk's wrists in the black leather cuffs. John worked the pulley on the side of the frame and Punk was stretched up until he was standing on the balls of his feet. His breath started to come a little faster. John had never restrained him this way before. It was a little unnerving, but he trusted John.

He was held there immobile as John walked over to the wall where the toys hung. Punk watched, his mouth dry with anticipation as John trailed his fingers over a crop and a whip, before finally settling on a gray suede flogger. But that wasn't all he picked up. As John came back to him he had a black silk blind fold in his hand. Punk's heart was racing as he realized he wouldn't be able to see what John was doing to him. Before John tied the blindfold on, he looked Punk in the eyes.

"Do you remember your safe word?"

Punk nodded his head. He'd never needed to say it but he remembered.

"Good. Use it if anything becomes too much, baby."

Then he tied the cloth around Punk's eyes. Punk immediately felt incredibly vulnerable. He couldn't see and he didn't have the use of his hands. There was no escape – he was completely at the mercy of his Dom. But he wasn't scared. Instead he was hard – possibly more turned on than he had ever been. He liked knowing that he was under John's control for everything he would feel tonight. He heard John moving and he turned his head trying to follow the sound of his footsteps to figure out where he was. When John stopped, he only knew that he was somewhere behind him.

He jumped when he felt the flogger touch the skin of his back. But it wasn't the lash that he'd been expecting. John trailed the tails of his toy over his shoulders and down his back. The soft material tickled him, raising goose bumps on his skin. He heard John move again and the tails of the flogger moved with him. They brushed up his side, down his stomach, and over his shaft. John kept the flogger there for a moment sweeping it back and forth until Punk was gasping and raising his hips to meet it. John's thumb brushed across his cockhead.

"Hmmm… already hard and dripping wet. I think I'd better put a cock ring on you. I don't want to have to worry about you coming without permission while I play."

Punk dropped his head back with a moan as he heard John's footsteps walk away, pause and return. He didn't realize that John was right in front of him until John's lips were on his, kissing him fiercely as he slid a cock ring down his shaft. Punk gave a gasping cry into John's mouth, but he didn't complain. This time when John moved away he forgot to track his movements, his mind focused on the way his cock throbbed in its restraint. So when the lash fell across his back he jumped in both pain and surprise. The next lash fell in a different spot on his back, slightly harder, making his skin sting. The flogger continued to fall, never in the same place twice, with John varying the strength of each blow. Punk's body was all tripped up, sometimes rocking forward on his toes to escape the lashes and sometimes arching back into them, moaning as the heat of pain on his back caused a different type of heat to spread throughout his body. When the flogger moved down to his ass he cried out, but pushed his hips back into each stroke.

Suddenly the flogger stopped. Punk twisted in his restraints, straining to hear where John was. He got his answer when he felt John's tongue stroking across his ass. His skin was overly sensitive from the flogger so the laps of John's tongue were almost painful. But he didn't care. And when John bit him he shouted, but it was to ask for more. John sucked and licked and bit his way across both of his cheeks until he was trembling and begging for John to stop, to bite him harder, to fuck him now. He jerked forward as John's palm slapped hard across his ass.

"Stop begging. You don't get to decide anything I do to you."

Punk apologized swiftly, but then John's tongue slid between his cheeks, and he had to bite his lip to stop from begging again. His Dom's tongue was slick and hot as he teased against his entrance. When he felt it pushing inside him he jerked hard on his restraints, wanting more. John tongue fucked him for long moments, his hand coming up and squeezing his sac roughly. Punk couldn't hold back any longer. "Oh god, please, please Sir, fuck me!" He should have kept his mouth shut. Because John squeezed his balls hard and swung the flogger around so that it struck his cock. Punk screamed at that delicious pain.

"You disobeyed me."

Punk shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I wasn't -" The flogger fell on his cock again and he heard John get to his feet.

"Be quiet. I guess I'll have to show you what happens to bad subs when they disobey their Doms."

Punk's fingers were twitching with anticipation waiting for the flogger to strike him. But nothing happened. Instead he heard the slow rasp of a zipper and the slide of cloth against skin as John undressed. He hung there, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for John to carry out his punishment. Punk didn't hear the sounds of John undressing anymore. Instead it was quiet, so quiet that it felt as though his ears were filled with noiseless sound. He turned his head, wondering if John had left the room. And that's when the flogger struck him across the belly. He gasped in pain but he arced towards the blow. But that did him no good, because John moved on. The flogger hit his thighs, his ass, his cock. The pattern of where the tails landed on his body was unpredictable as was the interval in between each stroke. Finally, Punk stopped trying to determine any pattern, he just let his Dom carry out his punishment as he would.

As the flogger met his skin, sometimes in soft brushes and sometimes in stinging slaps, Punk was lost in his own dark world. Nothing existed to him but the sounds of John's breathing and the flogger as it fell sharply against his flesh again and again and again. But there was no longer any pain. Instead his body relaxed and welcomed each lash and the pleasure they brought him. His head dropped back on his shoulders with a sigh. Punk didn't understand what was happening. He just knew that he felt so good and so peaceful and he never wanted John to stop what he was doing to him or to let him down from his cuffs. He heard John calling his name – but it sounded as though his Dom were very far away. He had to struggle to lift his head up and answer him. "Yes, Sir?"

John's hand lightly grasped his shaft before he spoke. "You know that you are mine, don't you Phil?"

Punk nodded, just barely remembering to whisper, 'Yes, Sir' so that he didn't anger his Dom.

"And you admit that I own you?" he asked, slowly pumping his fist on Punk's cock.

Punk shivered as he answered. "Yes, Sir. You own me. All of me."

John squeezed his shaft. "So then why don't you call me Master?"

Punk felt a small flicker of … something in his head at that word. But he was so deep into the pleasure he was floating in that he couldn't think of any reason why he shouldn't do as John said. "I'm sorry Sir – Master. I didn't know that you wanted me to."

"I do. Very much. I want to hear that from your lips while I fuck you little sub."

Punk nodded slowly. "Yes Sir … yes Master. Whatever you want." Punk gasped as he felt John's naked cock brush against his. "I'll do whatever you want."

"Such a good boy," John told him before kissing him slow and deep. Punk moaned as John sucked on his tongue. John ended the kiss and pulled off his blindfold. Punk blinked as the light hit his eyes. John was the first – the only thing he saw.

"I want to see those pretty green eyes while I'm deep inside you."

Punk's head was fuzzy. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

John laughed softly and grasped Punk's chin. He looked at his sub, saw the faraway look in his eyes and heard the slower cadence to his speech. He realized that Punk was flying, that he'd drifted into subspace. John felt a rush of pleasure at the knowledge that his sub trusted him enough to let go and submit to what John did to him so completely. That his strikes against Punk's smooth skin had sent him into a place of euphoria.

He picked Punk up by his thighs. It would have been easier for him to take him from behind, but now more than ever he wanted to see his lover's face. He wrapped Punk's legs around his waist, telling him to hold on. John fit his cock against Punk's entrance and started to push inside slowly. Punk moaned softly, his breaths coming in soft little pants.

"Please … Master. I need you inside me."

John kept his eyes locked on his sub's making sure he was okay as he drifted but also because he just wanted to watch those beautiful eyes that he loved so much. He pushed up hard until he was deep inside his lover. "Like this, baby? Is this what you want?" Punk nodded and his eyes started to drift closed. "No. Look at me, Phil." He started to move. "Don't take your eyes off me." Punk's eyes were hazy and dazed. But they stayed on his.

John's fingers clenched tight onto Punk's thighs as he fucked into his sub slow and steady. Each time he stroked into him he went deeper and deeper until finally Punk gasped as John tapped his spot. John pulled Punk tighter against him as he kept thrusting at that angle. He increased the strength and the speed of his thrusts, watching as that beautiful flush rose on Punk's face and sweat dampened his chest. John could have stayed like that forever, watching his sub, feeling the sweet friction and luscious heat of Punk's ass on his cock as he pushed deep inside him. But he felt his channel start to grip him tighter and knew that his sub was close to orgasm. And he wanted to let his sub have his orgasm … as long as he did one thing.

"I can feel you trying to come, baby." He took his hand from Punk's thigh to lightly brush his fingers up and down his cock. "Do you want me to take this cock ring off you and let you come?"

Punk moaned. "Yes, Sir. _Please_…"

John let his fingers tease at the cock ring as he continued to pump his hips against his lover's. "I will. But you know what you have to do."

Punk breathed in and out slowly before he answered John. "May I come please, Master?"

John slipped off the cock ring and increased his speed even more. "Say it again." Punk obeyed him and John smiled fiercely. He started moving his fist on Punk's hard cock, working him closer to the edge. "Again, baby. Let me hear who owns you." Punk's stomach muscles were clenched tight as he moved his hips with John.

"Master, please. I need to come, please let me."

John pumped his fist on Punk fast, squeezing the head on each upstroke. "Come for me sweet sub. Wanna feel this ass squeezing me tight and your hot cum all over my belly." Punk gasped and then he was coming just like John wanted, shooting even higher as he did. John held his own orgasm back just so he could see his beautiful sub reach his pleasure. It wasn't until Punk sighed and went limp that John groaned and pulsed into his lover, his body humming with the intensity of his release.

XX

John released Punk from his cuffs and caught him as he fell against him. He wrapped his arms around his sub tight, kissing him again and again as he walked him backwards to the bed. After pulling back the covers, John helped Punk to lie down and then stretched out besides him. He pulled the covers up over his sub and wrapped an arm and a leg around him. Punk's face was tucked into his neck and he felt his slow shallow breaths against his skin. John rubbed his back in slow circles. "Come back to me, baby. Come back down." He kept talking softly to Punk telling him how much he loved him and how beautiful he was until finally Punk shuddered and lifted his head. John looked at him and saw that his eyes were clear and focused.

Punk licked his lips. "What… what happened? What was that?"

John brushed a soft kiss across Punk lips. "You went into subspace, baby. It's what happens to a sub when they get a rush of endorphins from what they are experiencing and completely let themselves go."

Punk's brow creased. "I didn't think that was real."

"It is. And to see you like that … flying so high..." John kissed Punk again. "It was a beautiful gift. Thank you."

Punk was exhausted. He had no energy to do anything other than accept John's kiss, his Dom's lips soft and gentle against his.

* * *

Later that night Punk lay in the bed, back in John's master suite. John was up getting him a glass of water. All night long John had done everything he could think of to make sure that he was comfortable. He could tell that John was happy and Punk was happy too. But … he was a little bothered by what had happened in the play room. Going into subspace had been unexpected for him. Like he'd told John, he'd read about it, but he didn't think that it was real. He hadn't been prepared for that floaty spacey feeling. He'd never been high before, but he had a feeling that what he'd experienced was pretty damn similar. Punk admitted to himself that it _had_ felt good to let go like that and to call John 'Master' for the first time. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. But just because something felt good didn't mean that he had to do it.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you Nine Inch Nails Closer for getting me through this! And Punk enjoyed that … didn't he?

Oh and I have a confession to make. Several of you said you thought it was John's red room of pain. But I had no clue what y'all meant! Lol. I finally asked a friend cuz I thought it was something sci-fi and she told me it was from 50 shades … which clearly I've never read (don't hate me!). So the red door jogging Punk's memory is absolutely hilarious to me now. But yes – you all were right! =)


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and know no one from the WWE.

**Warning**: cursing, m/m sexual situations

**A/N**: I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! And if you're not from the US – I hope you had a great Thursday! =)

* * *

Punk sat on the locker room bench. He was still sort of tired. Not necessarily physically, but mentally he felt like he wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. He was just … tired. And now that he was alone again and not under the spell of his Dom's commanding presence, the doubts that Kofi had raised came rushing back. Why _had_ John waited until he did to pursue him? _Was_ he changing too much in his relationship with John? Punk thought back to before he'd been collared and how he'd been worried about John's control of him slipping past the boundaries of the bedroom. He also remembered thinking that he didn't want to be submissive to John in public like Cody was to Randy. Punk had to wonder if he was in over his head in his Dom/sub relationship with John. All of those thoughts just made him … tired. Even more tired than he already was. Punk shook himself. He needed to stop thinking about this. The best thing for him to do was talk to John after the pay per view tonight. Right now he needed to focus on getting ready for his match with Bryan. He was thinking about going to get a Pepsi before he got dressed when Kofi walked into the locker room with his bags. He saw Punk sitting there and came over.

"Hey, Punk. Listen, I'm sorry if I stepped out of line talking about your relationship. I just noticed things were a little different with you and I was worried. That's all."

Punk looked up at his friend. He couldn't be mad at Kofi for being concerned about him. "Don't sweat it, man. I appreciate you looking out." Punk picked up his bag from the bench and set it on the floor. He waved at the empty spot for Kofi to sit down. Kofi sat and opened up his gear bag. Things were a little strained between them at first, but as they started talking about their upcoming matches they both relaxed. Kofi was disgusted that the Tag Team Titles weren't being defended on the show.

"I can't believe they're whoring us out on the pre-show to get people to tune in."

Punk was laughing when the door opened again and John walked in.

Punk saw immediately that John was still in the good mood he'd been in ever since their time in the play room. The big man was practically vibrating as he noticed Punk and headed straight for him. John smiled happily at him. He gave Kofi the briefest glance and hello before his attention shot right back to Punk.

"I got us our own locker room for tonight. Get your stuff and let's go."

Without even thinking, Punk replied, "Yes, Sir." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kofi's mouth drop open in shock. Punk was shocked too. If he'd needed proof that the boundaries were blurred – he'd just provided it for himself. He looked at John and saw the pleased smile on his lips and the possessive gleam in his eyes. It was clear that Punk's automatic response had made John happy. Punk on the other hand was almost ashamed of himself. Was he so deep into their Dom/sub relationship that he couldn't even remember to call John by his name in public? He didn't know what to think. Still, when John picked up his bags and left the room, Punk followed.

* * *

Punk looked around the room John had gotten for them. It was obviously more of a dressing room than a locker room. There was a wide countertop with a big lighted mirror over it. The benches were padded as were the folding chairs scattered around. Instead of hooks on the wall and metal locker cubbies, there was a wardrobe with shelves, a clothes rod, and hangers. And rather than the big open showers of most locker rooms there was a single bathroom with its own shower. "This is nice."

John shrugged. "Don't care about that. Just wanted somewhere we could be private." He sat down on the bench and pulled Punk to stand in between his legs. John ran his hands up under Punk's shirt, lightly gripping his waist. "After tonight, we'll be in a program together again." He brushed his thumbs back and forth over the soft skin of Punk's stomach. "I'm really looking forward to that."

Punk nodded. "Me too. We're good together in the ring."

"We are. I'm sure our matches will be even better this year."He smoothed his hands up Punk's back. "And this time I'll get to have my hands on you in the ring, knowing when we're alone I'll have you naked and writhing underneath me." He laughed. "I don't know if I'll be able to stand it. That oughta make for some good tension."

John told Punk to take his shirt off and watched as all of that smooth skin decorated with colorful ink was revealed to his gaze. John pulled Punk even closer and rubbed his face slowly against Punk's belly, inhaling that wonderful sweet scent that was uniquely Punk. He looked up at his lover thinking how this time last year he'd been so lonely, and how he'd spent so much time trying to think of the best way to approach Punk. Now that Punk was his, truly his, he was so happy he could hardly believe how lucky he was. "I love you, baby," he said, before placing soft kisses along his sub's Straight Edge tattoo. John felt Punk's hand brush lightly over his head.

"I love you too."

John smiled and tugged Punk's shorts off. Punk already had on the sleek black underwear he wore under his tights. John curved his hands up over his sub's ass. He cupped and squeezed that taut round flesh. "What ring gear did you bring?"

"The red, black and white ones."

John slipped a finger under the edge of Punk's tight underwear. He teased his fingertip against Punk's entrance. "What else?" Punk gasped.

"The red and green ones."

John laughed low. "You and your red." He pulled his hand out and sucked two fingers into his mouth. "You look good in it." John slipped his finger into Punk's channel, watching as desire took over Punk's expression. He started to pump his finger in and out before he finished what he was saying. "Almost as good as you do in green." Punk moaned, his head falling back on his shoulders. "You normally bring at least three sets with you. What else do you have?" He added a second finger, twisting his hand back and forth as he pushed both fingers deep. "Cuz I'm picking your ring gear tonight."

Punk was rocking his ass back on John's fingers as he gasped, "The set with the Chicago flag colored trim."

John leaned forward and brushed his lips over Punk's clothed cock, hard and straining against the material. "I was hoping you'd say that. Cuz that's what I want to see you in." He looked back up at his sub as he wiggled his fingers quickly before scissoring them. "Will you wear those for me, baby?"

Punk gave a tight nod as John kept working his fingers deep inside him. "Yes, Sir. I will." He thrust his hips back hard against John's hand. "Sir… we're alone…" John's finger rubbed over his prostate and he shivered. "So can we … will you…?" Punk cut off with a sharp gasp as John pressed hard against that sensitive area. A surge of pleasure went through him, hardening his shaft even further. He had to take a deep breath before he could talk again. "I need you inside me."

John nipped at Punk's cock sharply. "Mmm… I don't think so. Gotta make sure you're hungry and sharp in the ring tonight. Can't have everyone seeing you all soft and sweet after your orgasm. That's for my eyes only."

Punk made a sound somewhere between a moan and a laugh as John slowly pulled his fingers out of him. "You are evil," he said.

John smiled, "I thought I was corny."

Punk laughed for real this time. "That too."

"But you love me."

Punk looked at John for a long moment. His lover's blue eyes were bright and sparkling, his adorable dimples popping as he smiled. "Yeah. I do."

John reached around Punk for his bag. After rummaging through he pulled out the gear he wanted. He wouldn't let Punk move from between his legs. Instead, he had Punk rest his hands on his shoulders and balance on one foot as he tugged his kick pads and knee pads up his legs. He let his fingers stray and stroke over the soft skin of Punk's inner thighs as he dressed him. His lover trembled with each of his light touches. John slightly pulled down the knee pad he'd just put on. He looked up at Punk. "I want you wearing my mark tonight. If I had my way everybody would know that I owned you." John sucked the tender flesh just above where the pad stopped into his mouth. He stroked his tongue on the skin in his mouth, closing his eyes and breathing in Punk's scent as he suckled. Punk's fingers clenched on his shoulders and he sucked even harder, rubbing his hands all along Punk's smoothly muscled thighs. When he finally lifted his mouth and looked down he saw a deep bruise rapidly rising on that lightly tanned skin. He stroked his thumb over the spot. "You are completely mine, Phil." He was tugging the pad back into place when Punk spoke.

"Why did you want me?"

John smiled as he pulled the black tights with their red, white, and light blue accents up Punk's legs. "You know why. Because I admire the way you go after what you want. Because you're so strong in your beliefs. Because even though you can be an asshole, you're a complete geek when it comes to your comics. Because your sarcastic attitude cracks me up. And because you're fucking gorgeous." He was surprised to see a frown on his sub's face.

"But all those things were true about me since I came to the WWE. Why did you wait until you did to approach me?"

John shrugged. "It just wasn't the right time." He knew Punk's track record – knew he'd been in and out of relationships with several Divas and one or two of the roster. And of course he had to take his own lifestyle into consideration. But he didn't say that and Punk looked like he wasn't satisfied with his answer. Before he could ask him about it, however, someone knocked at the door. A male voice came through the door.

"Excuse me John, but Mr. McMahon wants to talk to all of the ladder match participants."

John sighed. "Duty calls." He stood up and gave Punk a slow kiss. He traced his tongue over his sub's lip ring, sucking on it lightly. He pulled back with another sigh. "Knowing Vince we won't finish this up before you go out with Bryan. So I'll see you at the gorilla before the ladder match." He took Punk's silver collar from around his neck, put it in his pocket and with one last kiss, headed out.

Punk watched as John left the room. _It just wasn't the right time._ What did that mean?

* * *

Punk waited at the gorilla for John. His match had gone great. AJ had played her part perfectly. When she'd tossed the chair between him and Bryan he'd really felt like he was in a fight to get it before the other man could. Maybe now that she'd laid off her attempts to wrap her tongue around his esophagus they could wrap up their program in a way that would really get the WWE fans on their feet. He rubbed his hands across his chest. Too bad she hadn't kept her foot on that Kendo stick. His torso was stinging and aching like a sonuvabitch from the blows Bryan had landed. There was a sudden explosion in conversation and Punk looked up to see Kane, Show, Miz, Chris, and John all coming down the hallway. They were all pumped up. Vince must have given one hell of a rah-rah speech … for several hours. John saw him standing there. He let the others break away from him and jerked his head to the tall trunks along the wall. Punk went over and followed him into the slight shadowy privacy.

John was damn near bouncing in his eagerness. "After this is over, you and I are going to set the WWE on fire." John pulled his silver X pendant from his shorts pocket and draped it back around his neck. He grasped Punk by the back of the neck and kissed him hard, his tongue demanding entrance but still coaxing Punk to bring his tongue into play with his. Punk's arms wrapped around his neck and he grabbed his lover by the ass with both hands, pulling him tight against him. Their kiss was hot and frantic, Punk gasping as John bit down lightly on his lip ring. When they broke apart he still couldn't quite let his sub go. John trailed kisses up Punk's jaw to his earlobe. He sucked that tender flesh into his mouth and tugged on it lightly before finally releasing him. They were both breathing hard as they dropped their arms from around each other. "Wait at the gorilla for me. I want you to be the first thing I see when I come through the curtain with that briefcase." His music came on and he was gone.

Punk headed back over to the big monitor that was near the curtain area. Kofi came over as Punk watched John go at it with the others in the ring.

"John really does seem to care for you. Watching you guys together reminds me of Randy and Cody actually. And you know how deep into each other those two are."

Punk knew Kofi was trying to be supportive of his relationship with John – but hearing someone else confirm that he interacted in public with John the way Cody did with Randy didn't sit well with him. That same question popped back into his brain. _Was he in over his head with their Dom/sub relationship?_ He was lost in his thoughts as he replied distractedly to Kofi. "Yeah, John is a really good Master." Kofi was quiet for a moment. Then Punk heard him take a deep breath. He looked over at his friend.

"Punk, just … just think about things for me. If John is your Master, what does that make you?"

Punk stared at Kofi for a long moment. Then without saying a word he left his friend standing there and went back to his and John's locker room. He skipped watching the rest of John's match so he was already showered and dressed when John came through the door clutching the briefcase. It was broken and had a big dent in it. He nodded his head at the handle in John's hand inquiringly.

"Damn thing broke off and ended the match early. It's a good thing it didn't happen when somebody was swinging from it." He tossed it aside and came over to Punk. "Why aren't you where I told you to be?"

Punk felt a little spark of anger. "We're at work, John. I can do what I want here."

John was riding high on his successful match and didn't notice Punk's mood change. "You can. But your Master might have something to say about it." He gave Punk a swift hard kiss and then headed for the showers. "I'm gonna wash Show's nasty sweat off me – then we'll go back to the hotel and celebrate our upcoming feud. I don't want us to hang with the roster tonight." He stripped off his shirt as he headed for the bathroom not waiting for Punk's response. He didn't notice that Punk didn't give him one and he didn't notice the confused and angry look on his sub's face either.

* * *

Punk slowly followed John into their hotel room. John was so full of energy, but he just felt tired. Tired and conflicted. Doubts swirled through his head so fast he couldn't focus on any one of them to think about it. He allowed John to pull his X pendant over his head to set it on the nightstand before replacing it with his red leather collar. But he was in his own head while John did so.

_Did John want to have control over him to influence where his career went in the WWE? Was he becoming nothing more than a slave to John's whims? Did he stop fighting for what was best for him backstage? Was a BDSM relationship healthy for anybody to be in? How could he be his own man if he was calling another man 'Master'? Was he so weak that he was changing instead of maintaining who he was like in every other relationship he'd had? Was he so weak that he so easily gave up every part of his control to John?_ He remembered what it'd felt like when he "flew" as John called it. He'd felt loose and relaxed, like he had absolutely no control over anything. Like he didn't _care_ about anything but how good he felt. Just like a fucking drug addict would. And what was horrible was that he wanted to feel that again. Could see himself becoming addicted to and drowning in the things John did to him. Just. Like. An. Addict. John's hand closed around his throat at that moment and he snapped.

"Don't touch me like that!" he shouted knocking John's hand away from him.

John's face was shocked but that was quickly replaced by his sternest Dom expression. "What did you just say to me?"

Punk was breathing hard and fast. "I said don't touch me like that! You can't make me feel like that again."

John looked shocked again. "Phil, baby, what's wrong? Talk to me."John reached for him but Punk stepped back.

"I can't do this. It's too much – this isn't me, goddamnit!"

Panic crawled through John. "Phil, calm down. Whatever is wrong we can talk about it and fix it, I promise." He held his hand out. "Just come sit down and let me take care of you." But Punk was shaking his head furiously.

"No. You can't fix this and I don't _need_ you to take care of me. I just need out of this."

John froze. His heart stopped beating for a tense moment before racing and slamming in his chest. His lips barely moved as he spoke. "Phil…" He had to force his next words past his throat that was tight with fear. "Are you asking me to release you?"

Punk looked at John and saw the devastated look on his face. _What was he doing?_ He needed to calm down like John said. But he couldn't. His heart was pumping furiously and crazy sick adrenaline rushed through his system, blurring his vision, forcing his lungs to work hard to keep up with his heaving breaths. He felt ill and he knew he was losing it – but he'd rather lose it now than lose himself completely later. He had to look away from John's sad eyes, all of the happy sparkle from earlier completely wiped out. He bowed his head and slowly turned his back to John so that the clasp of his collar was facing him.

Punk didn't hear any movement behind him for the longest time. Then he felt John's fingers brush his neck as he opened the clasp to the collar. As soon as it fell from around his throat into John's hands Punk choked on a breath and tears stung his eyes. He immediately felt cut off from John – the feeling sharper and insanely more painful than when John normally took his collar off. But he didn't turn around and ask for it back. Punk felt lightheaded as John's footsteps slowly crossed the room. The door opened and stayed that way for awhile. John called his name softly.

"Phil. I love you. Don't do this to us."

Punk didn't reply. He didn't know what he would say if he opened his mouth. More shouting? Begging for John not to leave? So he just stood there, still refusing to turn around. Finally, the door slammed closed. Punk dropped to his knees, his hand at his throat, gasping for breath.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: Repeat song for the end of this chapter, The Scientist – Willie Nelson version. From my bestie NG's "make me wanna slit my wrist mix." She's been waiting on this chapter since this summer. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go cry into my bag of Life Savers Gummies.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: I'm not affiliated with the WWE. But I think they are spying on my Monday night tweets with Slaygirl190 and HeartDeNijs. Trying to increase female viewership with the romance angles? We just joked about that!

**Warning**: Cursing

**A/N**: I have vague recollections of editing this through my feverish stupor. If that was just a dream, I apologize for any errors, lol. There were some pretty good reviews for the last chapter. A lot of you were split on how you felt about Punk asking to be released. Some of your comments showed that you really get where I'm going with the characters. I love it! Thank you so much for being awesome.

* * *

John made it to the lobby. But then he just stood there. He didn't know what to do or where to go. The people and the noise going on around him were nothing more than a buzz of white noise. All he could see was Punk's face flushed and tight with anger. All he could hear was Punk's voice shouting, 'It's too much – this isn't me, Goddamnit!" Through the thick haze of pain and anger that was threatening to squeeze his head and heart until he exploded, he realized he couldn't keep standing in the middle of the lobby like a fucking statue. He turned to go into the hotel bar when he heard someone calling his name. Since it wasn't the voice he wanted to hear he kept walking. But whoever it was grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey Mr. Money in the Bank, what are you too good to talk to your friends now?"

John turned around and after staring blankly at the person in front of him for a few seconds he realized it was Cody.

Cody had jogged over to catch up to John. He figured his friend was pretending he didn't hear him because he thought it was a fan or something. But when John turned around and he saw the bigger man's face he drew back in shock. "John, what's wrong? What happened? Is Punk okay?"

John didn't speak but he gestured slightly with his right hand. Cody looked down and saw what he was holding. He'd only seen it once before, but he knew immediately that it was Punk's collar. John had it gripped so tightly that his knuckles were white and the veins in his thick forearms stood out sharply. "Shit. John, tell me what happened." Cody tensed with apprehension for what he was about to hear. If John was here like this looking like he was shell-shocked with Punk's collar clenched in his fist, it could only mean one thing. But John didn't give him an answer. Instead he slowly reached into his pocket and drew out his room key. In a voice that was absolutely dead yet somehow full of despair, John finally spoke.

"Punk is upset. Go take care of him for me, please," he said holding out the plastic square.

Cody took the room key not knowing what to say. It didn't matter though, because John up and walked out of the hotel. He moved like a robot, looking neither left nor right and ignoring the fans brave enough to call out to him. Cody stood there stunned. But once John disappeared through the lobby doors Cody remembered the key in his hand and took off for the elevator bank. When the elevator doors opened on the right floor Cody quickly checked the small plaque to see which way to go and then damn near sprinted down the hall to room 636. He was so nervous for what he was going to find in that room that it took him several tries to get the stupid lock to turn green. When he finally got the door open he saw Punk.

Punk was down on the ground on his knees. He had one hand braced on the floor while the other was in a fist at his throat. Cody could tell from the way the man's shoulders rapidly rose and fell that he was struggling to breathe. As a sub, looking at the hand Punk held to his throat, Cody knew exactly what Punk was feeling as the older man practically hyperventilated on the floor. And he knew without a doubt that for whatever reason, Punk had been released.

Cody slowly walked over to the man who had become his friend. He spoke quietly, not wanting to startle him and freak him out more than he clearly already was. "Hey, Punk. It's Cody. Can I help you get off the floor?"

It was a minute before Punk answered him. He lowered the hand that was at his throat and rocked back on his heels. Cody saw him close his eyes and force himself to breath slowly. Finally Punk turned to look at him, but it was clear he wasn't quite focused on what was happening. His voice was slightly confused when he spoke.

"Cody?"

Cody nodded and smiled encouragingly and tried to joke. "Yeah it's me, your dashing friend. Let me help you up, buddy," Cody said, reaching for Punk's hand. But Punk shook his head and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Cody stepped back and let him do it on his own. "You wanna tell me what happened?" Punk shook his head again. Cody didn't know what to do. "Are you supposed to wait here for John?"

"No!" Punk's eyes went wide and he started breathing fast again. "He doesn't tell me what to do."

Cody held up his hands. "Okay, Punk okay."

Cody watched as Punk screwed his eyes shut tight and bit his lip clearly forcing himself to calm down. "Can I come and stay with you tonight?"

Randy had come up for the pay-per-view to support him in the ladder match and was staying with Cody. But Cody still immediately said yes to Punk's request. There was no way he could leave his friend to suffer on his own. "Yeah, man of course. Let me help you get your stuff." He saw that nothing had been unpacked yet so he grabbed the two bags he recognized as Punk's. "Is there anything else?" Punk started to shake his head, but then he walked over to the nightstand. When Cody realized Punk was reaching for his public collar he reluctantly stopped him. "Punk, wait. Did John release you?" Punk didn't say anything for a long time. Then finally he gave a small nod. "I'm sorry, but you can't take that with you." Cody felt like a monster for saying that as he watched Punk pull back his hand and just stare at the chain. Punk continued to stand there and Cody knew he was going to have get Punk moving because apparently he wasn't going to do it on his own. Hefting the strap to Punk's duffle higher on his shoulder he switched the handle of the rolling bag to the same hand so that he had one hand free. Cody lightly grasped Punk's wrist. "Come on Punk let's go. You can come to my room and lay down. We'll get this figured out."

Punk stopped staring at the chain and looked at Cody. Cody almost wished he hadn't. Punk looked so lost and confused that it made Cody's heart hurt. It was especially hard to see that look on Punk's face, since normally he was so sure of himself.

"What did I do?" Punk asked in a soft sad voice.

Cody shook his head. "I don't know Punk." He hesitated. He didn't want to agitate Punk again, but he had to ask. "Are you sure you don't want to wait here while I call John back?"

Punk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No. This is what's best for me." He opened them and looked at Cody again. "Let's go."

The trip to Cody and Randy's room was eerie. Punk didn't speak at all he just walked silently next to Cody staring straight ahead. They got on the elevator and the doors slid closed. When Punk saw his reflection in the polished metal doors he flinched and looked down at the ground. Cody had a hunch that gesture meant that Punk didn't want to face himself and whatever he'd done. The elevator ride seemed to take forever but finally they were on Cody's floor and walking down the hallway. They were almost at his room when a door opened and Tyson Kidd stepped out. The man took one look at Punk and a huge grin spread across his face. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit_. Cody thought.

"That ended even sooner than I thought it would."

Punk didn't even look at him but Cody spoke up. "Now is not the time Kidd. Just leave them both alone."

The grin didn't budge from Tyson's face. "Punk will be alright. He'll find some skeevy tattooed chic to ball before the week is out. And _I'll_ take care of John." He laughed and then headed off.

Cody cursed again. If there were a worst timing ever award in the Slammy's Tyson would win it hands down. He got the door opened and stepped back to let Punk walk in. Punk headed straight for one of the double beds and laid down. He didn't undress or take off his shoes or get under the covers or even close his eyes. He just laid there, curled on his side, still staring straight ahead. Cody was starting to get a little scared by Punk's behavior. He dropped Punk's bags and called Randy. He was still at the arena, having a meeting with the brass since his suspension was almost up. When he heard his Master's deep voice come across the phone he felt better, Randy would know what to do.

"Hey baby boy. I'm still in my meeting. What's up?"

"Randy you need to get to the hotel. John removed Punk's collar and I don't know what the hell to do!" Cody heard Randy saying excuse me to someone before he came back on the line.

"Are you fucking serious? Where's John?"

Cody started to panic. "I don't know! I saw him in the lobby and he told me to go take care of Punk and then he left. So I ran to check on Punk."

"Calm down. Is Punk still with you?"

"Yes, he's here in our room." Cody looked over and saw Punk hadn't moved. "He's just lying on the bed on top of the covers. He won't talk or anything. It's like he's in shock or something."

"He probably is. Get him under the cover and try to get a couple of shots down his throat." Then he cursed. "Forget that. Call down to room service and order some hot chocolate. Make sure he drinks it. I'm going after John right now. Call me if anything changes with Punk."

"Okay."

"Stop worrying, Cody, you did the right thing. You took care of Punk like John asked. And I'll go and find John. You did good, baby boy."

Cody took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Sir."

* * *

Randy paid the driver and then walked into the bar. John had finally replied to his texts and voice mails asking where he was. He let his eyes and ears adjust to the smoke and pounding music then he headed straight for the long bar. John was sitting there with a shot glass in his fist … and Punk's collar laid out on the bar in front of him.

"_Christ_. John, buddy – you need to put that collar away."

John ignored him and threw back his shot.

Randy sighed and sat down on the empty bar stool to John's left. "If you don't put it away you might spill liquor on it. You don't want that to happen do you?"

John gave him a look that clearly showed that he knew Randy was bullshitting him. But after signaling the bartender for another shot he tucked the red leather strap in his pocket.

"What happened?"

John tossed his shot back before he answered in a voice harsh with pain. "It was too much for him. I should have known this was gonna happen. I should have just been with him without all of my kinky bullshit."

"That would never have worked John."

John laughed bitterly. "Well this didn't work either so it doesn't fucking matter, now does it?"

Randy sighed as he watched his friend hold up two fingers, signaling for two shots this time. When they arrived he downed them one after the other. "John, you need to stop. You're going to make yourself sick."

"Randy I just lost the most important thing in the world to me. And it's my fault for being such a freak. So I don't give a shit if I wake up tomorrow with a fucking hangover." John pounded another shot. He slammed the glass on the bar and stared at it. He was suddenly quiet. "I just wanted him to be mine so I could love him and take care of him. I should never have tried to control a man as strong as Punk."

Randy hated pointing out the obvious – but John was so bombed and upset he couldn't see the truth. "Johnny, Punk let you control him for what? Three months? He wouldn't have done that if he didn't want to give up control to you. Stop blaming yourself for being who you are."

John took his keys out of his pocket and slid them across the bar top to Randy. "I only let you know where I was so that you could drive me back to the hotel. Will you do that for me and stop talking?"

Randy grabbed the keys. "So you're ready to go?"

John shook his head and raised his finger at the bartender. "Nope. I just want you to let me drink in peace."

Randy didn't have much patience to begin with and he lost what little he had with John. "You can stay here if you want pounding shots and hiding away from your problem like a fucking pussy. Or you can go back to the hotel, sleep this shit off, and wake up tomorrow ready to figure out how to get your sub back. Either way I'm going back to the hotel right now in your rental. You can go with me or I can leave you cash for a cab. What's it gonna be?"

John looked at the newly arrived shot in front of him but he didn't pick it up. Randy waited as those blue eyes, blood shot from drinking, and probably crying, met his.

"You think I can get him back?"

Randy didn't know what had happened and he didn't want to give out false hope so he spoke the truth. "I think you can _try_. But you're not going to be able to do that if you too drunk to even talk. And do you think Punk would respect you enough to want to be under your control again if he saw you like this?"

John's fingers touched the glass … then he pushed it away. "He asked to be released, Randy. You really think I should try?"

Randy got the bartender's attention so he could close out John's tab. "People break up and get back together all the time. Even Doms and subs. And Punk is new to BDSM. I bet something probably scared the shit out of him and he panicked. You need to figure out what that was and fix it."

The effects of the alcohol were finally kicking in and John's words came out slurred. "He said he didn't want me to fix it."

Randy clamped his hand on his friend's shoulder and waited until he looked at him again. "You're the Dom. Fix it."

* * *

John crossed the hotel lobby for the third time that night. His path was a lot less steady than it was before. Before he and Randy got to the elevator bank he stopped. "Can I stay with you and Cody tonight? They mentioned they were booked solid when we checked in."

Randy shook his head. "Actually Punk is already staying in our room. He's there with Cody now."

"Oh. Well then I guess I stay in our – my room tonight."

When they arrived in John's room he looked around. Punk's bags were gone and it looked like he'd never even been in there. Except for the tangle of metal on the nightstand. He went over and picked up the chain, remembering when he'd given it to Punk and how relieved his sub had been to receive it. Had he been so wrong in thinking that Punk was happy with their Dom/sub relationship? He'd seemed to embrace his position as John's sub but maybe he'd just been experimenting and finally realized it wasn't for him. The X dug into his palm as he clenched the pendant in his fist. Tears blurred his eyes as he realized that all of dreams and plans he had for them were now dead. He might as well have left that spare room empty instead of having the play room built. He wondered for a moment if the play room had been what triggered Punk's sudden demand to be released, but right now he was too drunk to try and figure anything out.

John dropped down onto one of the double beds. He kicked off his shoes before he laid down but he didn't bother to undress. Looking up from the pendant he was still clutching in his hand he noticed Randy standing there. "You don't have to babysit me anymore. I'll be alright."

Randy scoffed and moved to the other double bed. "Don't be a dumbass John. I'm not leaving you here by yourself. I'm here if you need me."

John just shrugged and rolled over onto his side facing the wall. Randy got on the phone to let Cody know where he was. John tuned him out until he heard his friend asking how Punk was doing. From the side of the conversation he could hear Punk wasn't doing too well. His first instinct was to go and take care of him. But then he remembered. "I don't _need_ you to take care of me!" So he stayed put. He pulled Punk's leather collar from his pocket, holding it in one hand and the pendant in the other. John lay there fighting his heavy eyelids, remembering the weekend he'd claimed Punk as his own. How happy he'd been – they'd _both_ been. He pictured Punk's face when he gave him his collar. He imagined he could hear their first softly-spoken 'I love yous'. It was torture but he couldn't stop playing that weekend on a loop in his head. Eventually though he couldn't fight the effects of the alcohol anymore and he slept.

John woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and cotton-mouth. He remembered immediately that he'd lost Punk the night before. He just laid there not wanting to get up and face an empty hotel room. But he wasn't alone.

"I know you're awake, John."

John sat up when he heard Randy's deep voice. He'd forgotten his friend had stayed the night with him. "I feel like shit," he said his throat sore from the way he'd abused it last night.

"No surprise there. Do you wanna get cleaned up so you can tell me what happened?"

John didn't really feel like talking, but maybe Randy would be able to help him figure out what went wrong with him and Punk. So he forced himself to stand up and trudged towards the bathroom. After washing the stink of the bar off of him and brushing the taste of Jack Daniels out of his mouth he felt better. And after he downed the water and aspirin Randy had set on the nightstand he finally was ready to talk.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I thought things were going great. And then when we got back to the hotel after the pay per view last night he just lost it."

Randy frowned. "He didn't give you any sign that he wanted to leave or that he was upset?"

John shook his head. "None that I saw."

Randy flashed him a look.

"What is that look supposed to mean?"

"It means that you should notice everything about your sub, including – no _especially_ if for some reason he's thinking he wants out."

John felt his hackles go up. "Are you saying that I didn't pay attention to my submissive?" he asked in a hard voice.

"Calm down, man. I'm not saying that at all. But I am saying that he probably was giving clues – you just for whatever reason didn't see them. What happened exactly?"

John told his friend everything about their abrupt breakup, from Punk knocking his hand away from his throat to him leaving the room. When he was finished he hung his head in his hands. "I did something wrong, I just don't know what it was."

Randy sighed as he looked at his friend sitting there so dejectedly. From what John had said something had been building up in Punk and had been set off last night. But he didn't know the details of their time together so he couldn't help John with that. "John, I think I was right last night. Something scared him and he had a panicked reaction when he asked you to remove his collar. The only way you're going to figure out what went wrong is to talk to Punk. Give him some time to calm down today. Then talk to him." Randy got up and crossed the room to give his friend a pat on the back. He knew the pain John was going through, remembering the time Cody had run from him. "I hope you two can work things out John, I really do."

John looked up at him, his blue eyes more somber and dull than they'd ever been back when he'd been lonely and watching Punk from afar. "Thanks, man. And tell Cody thank you for looking out for Punk."

* * *

Las Vegas. RAW. One week away from RAW 1000 when he was to face Punk for the WWE title. Before, he'd been excited to be in the ring with his lover again. But now, Punk was no longer his. In fact Punk wouldn't even look at him as the two of them, Show, and the refs stood in the ring to work out tonight's match. Punk wouldn't talk to him either, directing his answers to John's questions to the group as a whole. John tried again and again to get Punk to look at him, so much so that Show and the refs started looking at him strangely. But his efforts were in vain. Punk held firm in avoiding him even though they only stood two feet from one another.

Once they were done hashing everything out Punk was the first one to roll out of the ring and head back up the ramp. John gripped the top rope in his hands and watched him go. He'd give Punk a little more time, but he had to talk to him tonight. Otherwise they'd both go their separate ways and it would be four days before John saw him again.

* * *

Punk got changed in a corner of the locker room by himself. He hadn't slept at all last night so his trademark grouchiness was in full effect. He'd laid there in Cody's room just staring at nothing in disbelief at what he'd done for hours. He hadn't moved except to get under the covers and drink the mugs of hot cocoa that Cody kept shoving in his face. But once sunlight had started to stream into the hotel room, he'd come out of his fog. When he did he decided that he'd done the right thing. Staying as John's submissive was wrong for him. As much as he loved being with John and enjoyed the things John did to him, he couldn't let John take over his life the way he was doing. And he was ashamed and … scared at the way he'd so easily gone into subspace in John's playroom. That loss of control had felt so good when it was happening – but it terrified him afterwards. He wasn't sure what that loss of control said about him and he wasn't willing to find out. So he determined that when John came after him he would hold firm and not allow himself to fall to the pull of John's bonds. And he knew John was going to try to convince him to come back. That 'never give up' stuff he preached wasn't just bullshit John spouted for the cameras.

Even though he'd made the decision to stay away from John, he still was a cranky sonuvabitch. And Kofi had borne the brunt of that attitude as soon as he'd stepped into the arena. Kofi had come up to him to say hi. But then he asked where John was and Punk snapped. Again. He'd yelled at Kofi that he didn't know where the fuck John was since he'd broken up with him just like Kofi wanted him too. His friend had stood there in surprise as Punk unloaded on him saying that he was right, John was controlling him like a slave and that Punk was so weak he'd fallen for it. But when Punk had screamed "Are you happy now?!" Kofi had spun on his heel, his dreads flying around his shoulders, and walked away. Punk knew yelling at Kofi like that had been a real dick move and that he should apologize. But he just didn't have it in him to do so right now. So he sat alone, pulling on his yellow tights and kick pads, trying not to remember John telling him they were his favorites.

* * *

Thirty minutes before they went live John tracked Punk down in the back. He was sitting cross legged on a crate, hunched over the bottle of water in his hands and staring at the floor. He looked miserable, just as miserable as John felt. John saw that Punk was wearing his yellow ring gear – the ones that he'd admitted were his favorites. He tried to set a light-hearted mood as he made Punk aware of his presence. "Yellow. Did you wear these for me?"

Punk's head snapped up when he heard his voice and he jumped down from his seat before he could get any closer. The miserable look quickly left his face as his expression hardened. "No. This isn't for you. I don't do anything for you. I wore these as a nod to last year's Pipe Bomb. That's all."

Punk saying that he didn't do anything for him hurt, but he didn't let that stop him from continuing on. "Phil can we talk, please?"

Punk shrugged. "There's nothing for us to talk about."

"There is. I'd like to know why you ended things between us. I thought things were going well, that you liked what we had together."

"I told you that wasn't me. Why can't you just accept that?"

But John wouldn't. Punk's expression might read indifference but his body language told another story. Punk looked so lost and sad as he stood there, his shoulders curled in protectively and still refusing to look at him. He was obviously confused on what he wanted as his torso was turned like he wanted to leave while his feet were set as though to take him to John. It took everything John had not to reach out and pull Punk into his arms, but he couldn't help moving a little closer. "Punk you told me just hours before we broke up that you loved me. Was that a lie?" When Punk shook his head no John took another step closer. "And you told me just days ago, when I held you as you fell asleep that you loved wearing my collar. Was _that_ a lie?" Punk shook his head again and John moved closer still, close enough to touch. But this time Punk backed away.

"It doesn't matter what I said before. What matters is what I'm saying now. That type of relationship isn't me. Isn't _for_ me. I can't lose myself like that."

John started to cut in to ask Punk what he meant by that comment but Punk talked over him.

"Look, John. We have our feud getting underway so let's just agree to let this go and be professional where work is concerned."

John tried one last time. "Phil, are you sure you don't want to talk? I can give you more time if you need …"

Punk was already shaking his head before John could finish his sentence. "I don't need more time and I don't need to talk. I just need you to understand that we're over."

This time it was John who was left standing there as Punk walked away. Punk couldn't have made things any clearer. It wasn't just a moment of panic that caused him to ask to be released. He no longer wanted to be John's submissive. They were done.

* * *

Punk waited for his match to start. He was so ready for this night to end. He just wanted to go home to Chicago so he could be by himself. But not to think. He didn't want to think about things anymore. That's all he'd done all day. Like now. He was thinking that maybe he _should_ talk to John. He was thinking that maybe he'd overreacted and shouldn't have ended things between them. He was thinking that he'd done the right thing for himself and who he was to break up with John. He was thinking that he wanted to hear John's deep voice telling him what to do and that he wanted his collar back around his throat. He was thinking that if he'd been smart he would have left John's hotel room the second he said he was into BDSM. He was thinking, thinking, thinking! He was fucking tired of thinking!

Punk bounced on the balls of his feet and rolled his wrists. Wrestling Big Show would take his mind off of all this and then he'd be on his way home. Several days away from John should help him get his head on straight. Finally his music hit. He'd never been so glad to hear Cult of Personality in his life. Thirty more minutes and he could get the fuck out of this arena and put this day behind him.

* * *

John watched Punk and Big Show's match from the viewing area. He sat by himself. Now that Randy was traveling with them again he and Cody were off somewhere together. And everyone else took one look at his face and left him to brood alone. And that suited him just fine. He didn't want to talk to anyone. With the exception of his Make-A-Wish commitment he'd cancelled all of his PR for the week. He wasn't looking forward to going home to his empty house and the memories of him and Punk together there, but he'd rather do that than force himself to be positive and upbeat in front of fans. Even Super Cena needed a break.

Giving his attention back to the match, he tried not to flinch every time Show struck Punk with his huge hands. Show wasn't a particularly stiff worker but he was so strong that he knew each blow that landed on Punk hurt. It was hard to watch Punk being manhandled in the ring, knowing he wouldn't be able to rub him down with soothing ointment or ice any especially sore spots for him later. Punk was no longer his to take care of. He might as well start accepting that now so that he could go out there, do what he needed to do to hype his cash in and then go home.

John moved over to finish watching their contest at the gorilla so he could be ready to run out. But as the match went on John's resolve to just let Punk go crumbled. Show kept working Punk's sore torso and John could tell by Punk's face that he was really in pain. When Show body slammed Punk John had had enough. He was supposed to wait until after Show delivered the KO punch but he didn't want Punk to have to get up and face any more abuse. He had his music queued up early and ran out there. Show stood there with his fist still raised, trying not to show he was confused, while Punk rolled across the ring in pain. John knew he was supposed to be selling a possible cash in, but he was pretty damn sure the way he stood protectively in front of Punk came off as just that – protection.

Show and Punk got over their surprise quickly. The three of them went into their roles, Show grabbing the mic and ranting at John to cash in his briefcase now, Punk looking vulnerable in the corner, and John announcing his intention to cash in next week in St. Louis at RAW 1000. But John caught the expression on Punk's face and knew that he'd fucked up. Punk was furious at him for coming down and interfering in his match before he was supposed to. John laughed bitterly to himself. Oh well, what was Punk going to do, break up with him?

After he issued his challenge John whacked Big Show upside the head with the gaudy red briefcase. He was tempted to hit the giant extra hard for hurting Punk, but he refrained. By the time John turned back around Punk was on his feet. He went over and called for his belt. Punk raised the title high while John held the briefcase over his head. Their pose was reminiscent of last year when they'd both held WWE titles. Last year John had savored every moment he had with Punk in the ring. But this time he just wanted the goddamn cameras to shut off so he could do the dark show and go.

* * *

Punk came out of the locker room showered and ready to go. He was double checking his bags to make sure he hadn't left anything when he spied John heading out. He was walking slowly as he pulled his rolling luggage behind him, the usual bounce in his step noticeably missing. John stopped as someone called out to him, asking if he wanted to go to Denny's. John flinched and then shook his head no without turning around. As Punk watched John leave the arena, his demeanor that of a crushed man, Punk had to remind himself that he'd done what was best for him in breaking up with John. But for the first time in his life, thinking that he was doing what was best for him felt like the most selfish and wrong thing ever.

* * *

**A/N:** Take that flu! Managed to finish this chapter in spite of you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and it wasn't too angsty and depressing for you. If it was, cheer up! Tomorrow is Monday, so you can chat with me on Twitter ShockZ314 to taunt, cheer, and drool over the Super Stars on RAW. =)

Also, I have a poll up on my profile! A reader has requested a little more of Randy & Cody in this fic. I'm open to it - but not sure how I want to go about it. Please vote for me!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and know no one from the WWE

**Warning**: cursing, m/m sexual situation

**A/N**: 299 reviews as I type this! So very cool. Thank you guys and girls so much for showing your support for this story. Your reviews really do help every single author on here grow and learn as a writer.

* * *

Punk sat up in his bed in Chicago. It was 3 o'clock in the morning. He'd pretty much given up any thought of getting any real sleep. Which made this the third night in a row that he'd be nice and cozy with his old friends, late night TV and insomnia. A commercial came on and Punk glanced at his phone. It sat on his nightstand, its screen dark. He looked back at the TV. He should watch something on his DVR so he didn't have to sit through the commercials, but he didn't feel like bothering to check and see what he had in there. When another commercial came on he looked over at his phone again. It was still dark. After he glanced at the stupid thing for the fifth time he admitted to himself that he was waiting for John to call. Ever since that first time John had helped him get to sleep, John had called him every night they were apart. He loved those phone calls. Sometimes they talked about work, sometimes random topics, and often John had convinced him to indulge in phone sex – something he'd never really done before. But always it had been John's deep voice telling Punk that he loved him that had lulled him to sleep. Was he crazy to leave someone who obviously cared for him so much?

Punk reached out and picked up his phone. He was tempted to call John, even at this hour. But he just held the phone in his hand – not even thumbing it awake. John loved him and he definitely loved him back. But he couldn't live John's lifestyle. He couldn't give up control like that. It wouldn't lead to anything good for him – he knew it. He tossed the phone back onto his nightstand and laid down. He switched the channel off of G.I. Joe to infomercials. Maybe he just needed to watch something really boring to fall asleep. Punk snorted. After years with insomnia – he knew that didn't work. He gave it a try anyway.

* * *

John sat up in his bed in Tampa. It was 3 o'clock in the morning. He knew he probably wasn't going to fall asleep any time soon. He gripped his phone in his hand wanting to call Punk. He knew his ex would be awake. John wanted to call him so badly. To talk, to try and work things out, to help him fall asleep. But Punk had been clear. They were over. Still, he had Punk's number up on his screen and he kept rubbing his thumb across it to keep the screen lit.

Then an ugly thought crept into his mind. Maybe Punk wasn't awake. Maybe he'd found someone to spend the night with. Someone he'd had sweaty mindless sex with to help him forget about John so he could sleep. Or maybe Punk _was_ alone tonight, but he wouldn't be for long. Now that he'd had a taste of being a submissive maybe he would want more – just with someone who was better for him than John was. John stopped staring at his phone's screen as horrible pictures began filling his head. Punk kneeling at another Dom's feet. Punk chained up for another Dom's lash. John's grip on his phone tightened. Another Dom pushing into his sub. John squeezed that little piece of technology harder still. Another Dom holding Punk in his arms. John heard a snap and looked down. He'd cracked his phone's screen. John threw his head back against the headboard, his throat working rapidly as he tried not to cry. He hated himself for thinking like that, but he couldn't help it. He knew Punk's dating history, knew he wasn't one to stay alone for long. He just couldn't believe that their relationship would end like this.

How had he fucked things up so badly? Punk had said that _he couldn't lose himself like that_. He must have overwhelmed Punk in some way for him to say that – he just didn't know what he'd done. John ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. He more than likely had no reason to fear that Punk would get with another Dominant. He'd probably done a great job in scaring Punk away from the Scene for good. But what did he do wrong?! John admitted to himself that this was his fault. He should have talked to Punk more, made sure he was okay. But his beautiful lover had been doing so well and his submission had come so naturally that he hadn't thought -. No, that wasn't an excuse. He was a terrible Dom and this was _his_ fault. _He should have checked to make sure Punk was really okay_. And now Punk wouldn't even talk to him so that he could find out where he went wrong and fix it.

He'd seen Punk one more time at the arena on Monday night. He'd waited in the parking lot next to his rental waiting for Punk to come out. When he did they'd made eye contact for the briefest moment before Punk turned his back and went his own way. He'd finally given up and driven to the airport. Punk clearly had no intentions of talking to him.

John looked at the time on his cracked phone. 3:45 am. His thoughts circled right back around to wanting to call Punk. But he didn't because Punk didn't want him to. John slammed his fist down on the bed, angry at himself, at Punk, at the whole goddamn situation. He was going to go crazy if he sat there any longer thinking like this. He got up, threw on an old Patriots tee, a pair of sweats and stuffed his feet into tennis shoes. He headed downstairs into the dark and silent living room. John stood there for a moment. He could probably still get a few hours sleep. All he had to do was go into his kitchen pour himself a couple of drinks and let the alcohol do its job. But that was something someone weak would do. And he had to stay strong so that he could try to get Punk back. So he went through the kitchen into his garage.

Flicking on the lights he stated to head for his favorite classic car, a black 1970 Ford Mustang Boss. But when he reached it he touched the hood, remembering the things he'd done to Punk … and the things he'd made Punk do on the hood of that car. It had to have been shit like that that had sent Punk running. Fuck! If he wasn't such a goddamn kinky asshole, Punk would still be his. John angrily turned away from the black car and instead got into the driver's seat of the sky blue '67 Chevy Camaro next to it. With a total lack of the care he normally took with his vehicles he twisted the key viciously in the ignition, stomping hard on the gas and revving the engine while he waited impatiently for the garage door to go up. Once he had enough clearance he tore out of there, driving one handed while he searched Sirius for the angriest fucking rap he could find. NWA Straight Out of Compton came on and he turned the volume way up. Perfect. He shifted, making the engine roar as he flew down the streets of his gated community and probably pissing off every neighbor he passed. When he was out of the quiet and primly manicured area he went tearing down the freeway. He'd probably get a half-dozen tickets, but he didn't care. At this speed he had to really concentrate on what he was doing – which meant he had no room in his brain left to torture himself with thoughts of Punk.

* * *

Punk had managed to drift off into a light doze. But his mind didn't shut off the way he'd hoped. No, he was dreaming. Dreaming of being with John. Dreaming of how John had used a bowl of ice cream to let him know that he was perfect in John's eyes.

"_I can't believe you're going to eat so much of this stuff". _

_John raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes sparkling. "No _we're_ going to eat this". _

_Punk shook his head. "No way. I've already got people calling me skinny fat ass all the time." _

"_You're not fat, Phil. You're beautiful, just like I told you last night." John held the spoon up. "Here have a taste." _

_Punk turned away but he was smiling. "Please don't do the airplane." _

_John smiled and ate the spoonful of ice cream himself before setting the bowl down on the bed. "Do you know how many calories are in a serving of Chunky Monkey, Phil?" he asked tugging Punk's boxers down. _

_Punk raised his hips to help his Dom. "No."_

"_300." Once he was naked, John started stroking his cock. "Do you know how many calories you burn with an orgasm?"_

_Punk was starting to breathe a little faster, his hips slowly moving along with John's fist. "No," he said again._

"_100. So tell me Phil, how many times would I have to make you come for you to burn off your share of this ice cream?" John kept up his smooth pumping as he spoke. _

_Punk moaned and thrust his hips up. "Three." _

_John laughed softly. "You're so smart." He used his free hand to grab the spoon and scoop up some of the Chunky Monkey. This time when John held up the spoonful of ice cream, Punk parted his lips and let John feed it to him. John alternated between feeding him and himself. He kept stroking Punk the whole time, keeping him just shy of that delicious gasping urge to release until there was only one spoonful left. Then he took his hand off Punk's cock. He gave a sharp little cry of protest, thrusting his hips forward to seek John's hand. But John ignored him. _

"_I'm not going to give you any orgasms to burn off this ice cream, Phil. Do you know why?"_

_Punk shook his head, his body still craving John's touch. _

"_Because you are beautiful. I love your body. You don't need to be ripped with muscle to be the best in the world. You prove that every Monday night. Your slender arms? Perfect. Your sweet little round ass? Perfect." John touched him again, but this time it was to smooth his palm down Punk's thigh. "These thighs that I love feeling wrapped around me, and sometimes make me wish you still wrestled in basketball shorts so no one else could see them?" A drop of the melting ice cream fell on the thigh John was caressing. He leaned down and licked it up, lightly sucking the spot into his mouth. Punk watched as John looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. "Perfect," he whispered. John held the spoon of now mostly melted Chunky Monkey up to his lips and without a moment's hesitation, Punk ate the last spoonful. John dropped the spoon, raising back up to kiss him, telling him he tasted extra sweet. He started stroking Punk's shaft again. _

"_I won't make you come for that baby. But I _will_ give you three orgasms. One because you're gorgeous when you reach your pleasure. One because I want nothing more than to make you feel good. And one because I lo-"_

Punk wrenched himself awake. He'd prefer to stay awake for the rest of his life if that's what was waiting for him on the other side of consciousness. It was bad enough he couldn't get John off his mind while he was awake. He couldn't stand to dream of him too. Throwing off the covers he got out of bed. He pulled on the first pair of shorts he found in a drawer, tied on a pair of running shoes and grabbed his headphones. The sun wasn't up yet, but there were plenty of street lamps to light the way for a run.

* * *

Another city, another house show. It was late at night, but just like every other night this week, he was unable to sleep. So he was in the hotel's gym getting a work out. He'd racked up plenty of late night speeding tickets this week, but he didn't think it was a good idea to go for one of his break neck speed drives in a rental. The house show wasn't until tomorrow, but he'd gotten into town earlier today for yet more media and PR for RAW 1000 coming up on Monday. Now all of that was done and he had hours to kill. A workout was as good a way to do that as any.

He was switching the heavy dumbbell to his other hand when the door creaked open. He only gave a cursory glance to see who it was until he saw it was Punk. John's heart skipped a beat and he forgot about the weight in his hand. Punk came into the gym but when he noticed John sitting on the weight bench he froze. John knew Punk was about to turn around and leave so he spoke up. "You can come in, I don't bite." Punk gave him a look and John huffed a small laugh. "Maybe that was a poor choice of words. But I won't bother you if you want to work out." He watched Punk stand there for a moment in indecision before he went over to one of the treadmills without saying anything to him.

Punk had been surprised when he walked into the gym and noticed John. He'd almost stepped right back out but he figured them being alone was going to happen sooner or later. Might as well dive off that cliff now. He stepped up on the treadmill but he was flustered. He pulled his t-shirt off like usual and then thought that might not be a good idea. But it would look stupid to put it back on so he left it off, draping it over the handrail. He fumbled his headphones a bit but managed to get them on without dropping them like an idiot.

The machine was no different than hundreds of others he'd run on and he had it going pretty quickly. But he couldn't get into a good rhythm. John had said he wouldn't bother him, but he could feel the other man's eyes watching him. He knew that if he looked onto the big wall mirror in front of him that he would see those blue eyes focused on him. Punk tried to find his pace while avoiding raising his eyes to the mirror. But he couldn't resist the pull he felt and eventually he looked up. Just as he'd thought John was looking straight at him while he slowly curled the weight in his hand up and down. Their eyes met in the mirror and Punk stumbled. He grabbed the handrails to steady himself, but he didn't resume his run. He hit the stop button twice and stepped off the treadmill. Punk was shaking but trying not to show it as he snatched off his headphones and picked up his shirt to leave. He was almost to the door when he heard John call his name.

"Phil, wait."

Like an idiot, he stopped … and waited. He heard John approaching and turned around to face him. John came close, closer than he should have allowed, but he didn't step back.

"You look tired, baby."

Punk started to snort and give a flippant response. But he didn't. John at least deserved his honesty. "My insomnia is back," he said shrugging. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

John's hand came up and lightly touched his lower back. "You need to take better care of yourself."

Punk looked down. "John, don't," he said in a low voice.

John noticed Punk didn't say anything about him calling him baby, nor did he back away from his touch. John stroked his hand over Punk's slightly damp skin. "Don't what, Phil? Don't miss taking care of you? Don't miss being inside you and holding you afterwards?" His fingers dug into the smooth muscles of Punk's back. "Don't love you?"

Punk was shaking his head "I told you I can't-"

John cut off the rest of whatever Punk was going to say with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around the man he loved more than anything and pulled him up tight against him. After giving only the shortest protest, Punk started kissing him back. John felt the shirt Punk had been holding brush his legs as Punk dropped it and wrapped his arms around his neck. Their kiss was hot, rough and desperate, all the pain, loneliness, and heartache they were both feeling coming out as their lips met.

John wrapped his arms even tighter around his love and walked him backwards to the wall behind him. He pressed Punk against the wall, kissing him deeply again and again until they were both gasping for air. He finally gave them a chance to breathe, but he didn't break contact. He trailed his lips up Punk's jaw until he reached his ear. "Phil, please…" his voice broke and he had to stop and clear his throat. "Please, come back to me." John held his breath hoping he would get the response he wanted. Punk was quiet for several seconds before John heard him say no. John kissed him again, this time out of disappointment and frustration, but Punk turned his face aside.

"I said no, John."

John pulled back and looked at Punk. His lips were swollen and wet from his kisses, his eyes soft and his face flushed. He looked like he always did whenever they kissed. Then he lowered his eyes. John had to push himself away. He couldn't take seeing that sweet sign of Punk's submission to him while Punk was telling him no. John turned his back to Punk, clenching his fists tightly.

"I thought I could be alone with you without trying to make you mine again. Obviously I was wrong. So you'd better leave. Now. Because I'm about five seconds from pushing you up against that wall and fucking you till you agree to come back to me." He looked up in the mirror and saw Punk standing there with his eyes wide and his chest rapidly rising and falling. "And right now you look like that's exactly what you want me to do. So go. Unless you _want_ to be here with me." He closed his eyes not wanting to see Punk walk out on him again. But he heard his feet crossing the room and the door opening and closing.

When he opened his eyes he was alone … and he just lost it. He picked up one of the heavy iron dumbbells and in a rage threw it at the mirrored wall. The thing shattered instantly and John just stood there watching the pieces fall.

Punk heard the crash from the other side of the door and he flinched. That wasn't his problem to deal with. He shook his head hard. He _wouldn't_ _let_ it be his problem to deal with. No matter how badly he wanted to go back into that gym and walk right into John's arms he wasn't going to do it. Punk put his headphones back on and headed out the front of the hotel. He couldn't run on the treadmill tonight but that was okay. He'd just run outside again.

* * *

John was back in his hotel room. After he'd left the gym, he'd gone to the front desk and turned on the charm. He explained that he'd had an accident in the weight room that had resulted in the breaking of the mirror. John paid for the damages, slipping the manager a little extra to keep the incident quiet.

Now he was sitting up in his bed. Alone. He held Punk's collar in one hand, rubbing his thumb over the four letters engraved in the leather. In the other he held the shirt Punk had dropped and forgotten when he left. He didn't get up to turn off the lights so he could sleep. He just sat, staring at the collar. He didn't turn on the TV for noise to distract him from his thoughts. He just sat, staring at the collar. He didn't get undressed and take off his shoes to get comfortable. He just … sat.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: Cripes. Punk has really dug his heels in. My nails are painted black. Black for emotional pain. Repeat song for most of this chapter was Possibilities by Lykke Li and Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation for the gym scene. Because love or hate the Twilight movies – they had good soundtracks.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. I am in no way privy to the private lives of WWE Superstars.

**Warning**: Cursing

**A/N**: As I mentioned before I went home to St. Louis for this episode of RAW. It was awesome to be there – busted leg and all. For this chapter I tried very hard not to cram in every detail from that night. I think I succeed. Sorta. Kinda. Okay probably not. Enjoy it anyway =)

* * *

"You look like shit."

Punk looked up and saw Cody standing in front of him. Normally he would have shot back a snide reply but he just wasn't up to it. So he didn't say anything. Besides, he knew that he looked terrible. He hadn't slept much … or at all since his encounter with John in that Arkansas gym so the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. But it was too bad. There wasn't anything he could do about it.

Cody sat down next to him where he was hanging out in the backstage area of the arena and handed him a bottle of water. "Now that you're no longer practically comatose, you wanna tell me what happened between you and John?"

Punk took a sip of the cool water. He hadn't talked to anyone about this. When he was home in Chicago he'd mentioned to Colt that he'd broken up with John, but when his friend tried to talk to him about it he'd shut him out. Colt didn't know about their BDSM relationship and right now he wasn't comfortable discussing it. And of course Kofi knew they were done, but his out of control screaming tirade – which he still hadn't apologized for – did not count as talking about it. So maybe he should get things off of his chest with Cody. He drank deeply from the water bottle before giving Cody his full attention. "I just realized that being a sub wasn't for me. And since that's John's thing – I had to end it."

A confused frown creased Cody's forehead. "You don't just realize that being a sub isn't for you. What happened to make you think that?"

"It was nothing. John and I had an argument and I decided it wasn't right for me to be submissive to anyone."

Cody's expression was clearly disbelieving. "C'mon man. Don't bullshit me. If you don't want to talk right now that's fine. But don't put me off with a half-assed story. I know how you felt about belonging to John. Remember what you told me when he first collared you?"

Punk remembered. _I swear right now I'm about two seconds from going over there and kneeling at his feet in front of everybody back here._ He should have known then that he was in trouble. Punk sighed, he might as well tell Cody the truth. "Have you ever gone into subspace?"

Cody smiled slightly. "Yes. I love it when Randy takes the time and does things to get me there. I just relax and let go. It feels so good, almost like I'm high - " Cody cut himself off mid-sentence and looked at Punk. "Oh."

Punk snorted. "Yeah… oh. When we were in Florida I experienced that for the first time. I liked it, fuck I more than liked it, but I just can't give up that much control. And I can't accept something that makes me feel like I'm high." He didn't mention the doubts he had about why John wanted to be with him – not wanting to bring Kofi into this mess anymore than he already was.

Cody looked confused again. "Okay, I'm not Straight Edge so I'm not sure how to help you with that. But if you liked giving up control to John, why would you walk away from it? You're safe letting John take control when it's just the two of you. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not like John asked you to be a lifestyle sub."

Punk blew out a frustrated breath and laced his fingers together over his forehead. "Because it wasn't just in the bedroom that I was letting him take control. I called him Sir in the middle of the goddamn locker room, with Kofi sitting right next to me for fuck's sake. If that isn't a sign that I was losing too much of myself to him, then I don't know what is. "

"Punk, when did you all have your session in John's playroom?"

He dropped his hands. "Saturday. Why?"

Cody ignored his question. "And afterwards did you feel sort of tired – like you just didn't want to deal with anything?"

Punk nodded. "Yeah. I just wanted to sleep for days it felt like."

Cody gave a sad little laugh. "Punk… What you experienced is totally normal. If you felt like you were high, it makes sense that eventually you would come down, right?"

Punk looked at Cody. Where was he going with this? "Yeah… so what?"

"So your defenses were lowered. Everything you felt afterwards was because of that. Doubting you should be a submissive, slipping up and calling John Sir in public, asking to be released. All of that was a result of coming down. It takes a lot to let go enough to go into subspace. And sometimes once you come out of it it's like your equilibrium is off. And that feeling can really mess with your head until you're back on track. You can't let this come between you and John – it's not worth it."

Punk broke in. "It is worth it Cody! If I'd stayed with John we would have wound up in that play room again and I'd be high as a kite. And if what you say is true then that means that each time I'd be weak and tired after that – like I'm coming off a fucking bender – and I'd be calling John 'Sir' in front of every damn body. I might as well wear my collar in public." Punk felt a small thrill of pleasure at the thought of walking with John so clearly marked as his, but he pushed it down. "And I'm Straight Edge! I can't let myself feel like that and I definitely won't let myself become addicted to that feeling. Besides, John was just … He was crossing the boundaries we set. It was just too much."

"Punk it can be hard to keep those boundaries in place, especially for someone who is new to being a submissive. And John might not be new to being a Dom, but he's never had his own property before. You guys are both learning your way through this. You should talk to John about this. Did you even let him know how you were feeling when you were recovering from subspace?"

Punk shook his head. "No, I didn't realize the way I was feeling was tied to that."

Cody sighed. "Always talk to your Dom about how you're feeling, Punk." Then he frowned. "But John should have noticed how you were feeling and helped you."

Punk was about to say something but he stopped as John came around the corner. John hadn't seen him yet and Punk stood up to go before he did. "Thanks for the talk Cody, but I've got to see the trainer."

"Wait, are you going to talk to John?"

Punk shook his head. "No. I just don't think that type of relationship is for me. I've gotta go." Punk hustled out of there. He didn't look back to see if John had seen him. If he had he would have seen that John did see him. But John's face was no longer sad as it had been the last time he'd seen him. Instead it was hard and resigned.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Punk could no longer avoid John. They had to practice for their match later that night. He stood in the ring waiting on John. He was in his ring gear because he liked to practice everything just the way it would be live and wrestling in shorts or sweats gave him a different feel to his movements. He was wearing his black and white gear, the ones John had said were his second favorites. He tried to tell himself that it was just coincidence that he'd packed these and that it had nothing to do with John's preference. But as John climbed into the ring he watched for John's reaction. John looked down at his trunks for a minute then looked back up at him. Punk felt his face flush hot. "Black seemed appropriate for tonight, for my heel turn." Punk knew his character was about to flip tonight, but the particulars still hadn't been hammered out with creative yet. They were waiting on something, something big apparently. So he thought his excuse was a pretty good one. But John just shrugged.

"You don't owe me any explanations, Punk. I don't own you."

Punk stood there unmoving as all the blood that had previously rushed to his face drained down to his feet. That's what he wanted – for John to let him go. Still, it had felt like a knee to the gut to hear John say he didn't own him in such a cold voice. Punk forced his feet to get moving so they could practice. He tried to forget about John's remark, but it kept knocking around in his head as he and John knocked each other around the ring. But he couldn't and as a result his focus was shot to hell. He was stiff and clumsy as they wrestled. Finally John stepped back breathing hard.

"I think we've done enough for now. Things will gel tonight."

Punk was breathing just as hard as he nodded in agreement. John turned away to leave the ring without even acknowledging him. Punk followed him down the ring steps. He was stupidly about to ask if there was anything wrong when a familiar harsh voice rang out.

"I hope you boys put on a better show than that tonight."

Both of them turned around to see Vince sitting at the announcers table. "You both looked like two green boys a week into OVW." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Or like two people who really don't want to touch each other."

John spoke up before Vince could go any further. "We're both just tired, Vince. We've been on the road for days doing shows and PR. We'll be ready for tonight."

Vince snorted and turned his attention to Punk. "You'd better be on your game tonight, Punk. This is RAW 1000! It's a huge milestone for my company and I'm letting you walk in _and_ out tonight the WWE Champion. You'd better not fuck this up!"

Punk was used to Vince's little tirades and he always had two reactions to them. Either laugh and walk away or go toe to toe with the company CEO. But before he could open his mouth to rant right back, John stepped in again.

"Leave him alone, Vince. I said we'll be ready. When has Punk ever not stepped up and done what was necessary when the time comes? Just back off."

Punk and Vince turned and looked at John in surprise. But Vince's face quickly turned to understanding.

"I suspected as much. Look, you boys aren't the first two to form a relationship outside the ring and I'm gonna tell you like I've told all the others. I don't care who you fuck behind closed doors, but you'd better _keep it_ behind closed doors. I don't want a single peep about you two leaking to the public. If it does I'll fire your asses so fast - ."

Punk finally got a word in. "You don't have to worry about anything leaking anywhere. It's over."

Vince looked at him for a long moment and after giving John's face the same study, he laughed. "Yeah, over. Whatever you say, Punk." He started walking back up the ramp but issued one more command as he went. "Just keep your private bullshit out of my ring."

Punk and John were left standing there alone. "Thanks for the save there," Punk said.

John bent to grab his shirt not even looking at him as he answered. "I was just trying to shut him up before he really got started. I'll see you tonight." Then he headed back up the ramp as well.

Punk felt stupid for trying to have a conversation with John as he watched his former lover walk away. He'd wanted John to leave him alone, so he couldn't whine like a little bitch now that he was getting exactly that.

XX

John headed straight for the private dressing room he asked for tonight. It had been tough to act so unfeeling towards Punk. But as he'd sat there in that Arkansas hotel room the other night, staring at Punk's collar, he'd come to a decision. He could turn into a pathetic excuse for a Dom, begging Punk to come back to him every time they were within 10 feet of one another, or he could accept that Punk didn't want to be his submissive any longer and move on. He couldn't force Punk to be his. He couldn't even force Punk to talk to him to find out what went wrong. So really he had no choice but to let Punk go. It damn near killed him to accept that he would no longer get to hear Punk call him Sir. That he'd never again get to hold Punk in his arms, letting him know he was safe while he recovered from the intensity of his submission. And that the days of seeing his mark of ownership around Punk's slender neck were over. But accept it he did. He'd wrapped both of Punk's collars in the shirt he'd brought back with him from the gym and shoved the bundle to the bottom of his bag. And although he'd made that decision, he wasn't ready to be all buddy-buddy with Punk. Which meant that right now, he needed to distance himself from the man that he loved until the feelings he had for him faded away. That is, if they ever did. He'd already slipped once with his automatic defense of Punk in the face of Vince's rant. From here on out he'd be sure to be business only. He'd get through their match tonight and then he'd make it through whatever else creative cooked up for his feud with CM Punk.

* * *

The atmosphere back stage was full of energy. Just about everybody who'd ever played a role on RAW was there – whether they were on the show tonight or not. The crowd out there was going crazy just for the opening package playing on the Titantron. As Vince walked out there to greet the WWE Universe, Punk knew that for once his cocky swagger wasn't just for show. McMahon was damn proud that the program he'd created and built his company around had grown into such a pop culture phenomenon and that it made it all the way to 1000 episodes. A thank you Vince chant broke out and even Punk had to mutter a thanks. Without Vince and his company he might never have been able to do so many of the things he'd experienced. He knew his talent and hard work had got him to where he was – but there might not have been a place for him to get to if it wasn't for Vince. The CEO introduced DX and the crowd practically blew the roof off the Scott Trade Center.

Punk turned his attention away from the monitors to search out John. He was standing there talking and laughing with The Rock. Punk ignored the streak of jealousy that went through him. Dwayne wasn't one of the ones that John had mentioned as being into BDSM and even if he were – he didn't see Rock submitting to John. But with the way he was all mixed up in his feelings with John he'd probably be jealous of anybody that walked too close to his Dom – shit – his _former_ Dom. Punk had to laugh. John's jealousy and flip out over AJ had played a part in Punk feeling like John was crossing the line in their relationship. How ironic now that they were over Punk was standing here feeling jealous over nothing. Punk knew he needed to cut that shit out. So when he noticed Tyson Kidd headed for John, in his trunks and all oiled up even though Punk knew Kidd wasn't on the card tonight, Punk turned his back and walked away.

* * *

Punk was in the ring mocking Daniel Bryan for being left at the altar. But inside he was trying to hold back his excitement. Creative had finally sat him, John, and The Rock all down to go over what they had planned. Punk was definitely getting his heel turn because they planned for him to face Rocky at the Royal Rumble. And with The Rock being such a beloved fan favorite it would work out much better if Punk was the baddie. He was cool with that. But it also meant that he'd have to be heel against John in their feud. He didn't have a problem with that – but he knew he was used to bringing real life into his promos. He'd have to be careful not to get too personal in his efforts to get crowd heat on him as he faced off against John. Punk was excited to get to defend his championship against the Rock. He knew he could shine in a match as big as that. And with everything that would go into preparing for that he would be distracted from missing John like he did.

He gave his attention fully to Bryan. He looked like a mini Brother Love all red in the face, wearing a white suit, and holding that white microphone while he shouted, "You hear me, Punk? Greatest of all time!" It was a battle not to laugh. Still when The Rock's music hit, he played his part to perfection. He looked slightly annoyed that the Great One was coming out there to interrupt him, knowing he would be using that to fuel his heel turn later on.

XX

John watched from backstage as Punk stood toe to toe with Dwayne. When creative had told them what they had planned for Punk and The Rock he'd been glad for Punk. A match that big would be one of the defining moments of his career. As of now creative hadn't decided who was going to be victorious in that match – and John had no plans to use his influence to interfere. He wouldn't get involved with Punk anymore than he needed to wrestle him, but that didn't mean he couldn't watch him on the monitor.

As the camera view switched from one that only showed Punk from the waist up to one that showed his whole body John swallowed hard. It wasn't that Punk was wearing one of the sets of ring gear that he preferred. No, it was the faint bruise at the top of Punk's thigh that had his attention. One that John had put there himself during one of their last times together. He remembered pressing his thumb into that spot as he'd held Punk's leg up around his waist, Punk tied up and gasping with pleasure beneath him as he'd thrust into the sweet heat of his sub. The bruise was faded, but still visible. And Punk hadn't had it covered up. He tried to deny the rush of pleasure he felt seeing his mark on Punk's beautiful leg but he couldn't help imagining that Punk had left it visible because he wanted John to see it. Just like the time he'd left the marks on his neck from his collar uncovered. John forced himself to stop that line of thought. He knew it was much more likely that in all the excitement of tonight, that Punk had just forgotten about it. _Fuck_! He was never going to get Punk out of his head if he didn't stop thinking like this. He tore his gaze away from the monitor and went to join one of the many pods of people all gathered around and excitedly enjoying this occasion. That would serve to distract him until it was time to face his former lover in the ring.

* * *

Trumpets. Bass. Sweeping green lights. It was time for John Cena the man to become John Cena the character and go out there for the RAW 1000 Main Event. He stepped out onto the stage holding the beat up RAW Money in the Bank briefcase. He made his normal quip into the camera but after that he got serious. Both because he was playing up to the momentous occasion about to occur and because so soon after losing Punk he had to face him in the ring in front of the 18,000 in St. Louis tonight and the millions watching around the world. He knew it was going to be a challenge for him.

John was in the ring when the sound of static cut through the arena and the crowd erupted for Punk. He tried to keep his attention off of Punk as much as possible while the other man went through his entrance. But he couldn't help but gaze up at Punk as he climbed the ropes shouting out, "Best in the World!" He'd imagined this night many times ever since Vince had told him he would be winning the Money in the Bank contract. John had been excited to work with Punk again. It would have been their own little secret that they were lovers as they wrestled in front of millions. Now that the match was here if he'd known that they'd be like this, their relationship over and barely speaking, he might have convinced Vince to let Jericho win the damn contract. He jerked his eyes away from Punk, determined to ignore him until the match started. They got the signal that they were on commercial as he took his shirt off and threw it to the audience. The guy who caught it threw it right back at him. Dick. Why didn't he just pass the fucking shirt on if he didn't want it? He threw it again, making sure to aim it for a group of people with kids in their midst. Finally they were back on camera, the bell was rung and he couldn't ignore Punk any longer. This was it. It was time to do their jobs and as Vince said, keep their personal bullshit out of his ring.

They started to dance around each other and then Punk threw him for a loop. He stopped and held his hand out. John didn't know if Punk's gesture was a professional one for the cameras, or a personal one for them. Regardless John Cena the character couldn't ignore it so he gave Punk's hand a brief slap and got moving again.

Punk locked up with John. He was going to keep this match professional between him and John. He was going to show this crowd that he was the Best in the World and that he'd earned the right to retain his championship tonight. Yet, somehow both his arms wound up wrapped around John's muscular torso and his fingers caressed John's back as they bounced off the ropes. John knocked him down with a shoulder block and when he made it back to his feet they locked up again. Punk didn't know what came over him. He wrapped his arm around John's shoulder and with his face pressed against his neck he whispered, "I'm sorry." He didn't know if John heard him over the chanting crowd. He sorta hoped that he hadn't since it was a dumb thing for him to say, right now in the middle of their match. Punk fought to concentrate but his focus was broken when John's palm lightly slapped his thigh as he twisted his arm. His skin tingled in that spot but then Punk forced himself to get focused. He'd never let personal business interfere with his performance in the ring before and he wasn't going to start now. He set John up for an abdominal stretch and from there on out his mind was on nothing but the match.

Eventually he settled down enough that they found their momentum – the chemistry that seemed to show in all of their matches together coming through. They exchanged strikes and kicks; the crowd booing when John hit him and cheering when he hit John. Punk actually started to have fun. It was RAW 1000, he was in St. Louis – a great crowd for wrestling - and he was in the ring with John, one of his favorite people in the WWE to wrestle. He threw John into the corner and leaped up to give him a Harley Race high knee – fitting since the man was in the audience tonight. He was having so much fun that he stuck his tongue out and gave the crowd the CM Punk they wanted to see, mocking John and his U Can't See Me hand motion. But then it was time to get serious. It was time to set things up for the ending to their match.

Things moved quickly after that. Punk bumped the ref out of the ring, took the AA from John and then rolled out of the way as Big Show came down and interfered again. He turned his back as John took the beat down from Show listening as the boos started to come from the crowd. When The Rock's music hit Punk slipped down to the ground letting him do his thing to save the day. And just when he was about to drop the People's elbow on the giant he slid back up there and flew across the ring to clothesline the hell out of Dwayne. Punk dropped down into the Rock's stance, mocking his set up of the Rock Bottom. After the Rock made it to his feet Punk hoisted him over his shoulders, threw him up and slammed his knee into the man's jaw. The Rock dropped hard to the mat, probably not having to fake much to sell the GTS. He'd made sure to deliver the move with all his strength.

Punk looked around. John was down. Rock was down. Punk stood there letting the boos wash over him. Heel turn complete.

* * *

Punk came out of the locker room and saw Kofi standing there in his street clothes. He needed to quit being a douche and apologize to his friend. Kofi heard him approaching and turned to look at him with a wary look on his face. "I should be the one looking like that. After what I said to you last week I wouldn't be surprised if you punched me in my face right now."

Kofi relaxed a little bit. "I'm thinking about it."

Punk gave a lopsided grin. "And I'd deserve it. But I'm hoping you'll hold off on the face punching to let me apologize for being such an asshole."

Kofi crossed his arms over his chest, but a smile was already tugging at his mouth. "Go ahead."

"I shouldn't have said any of that. None of what went down with John was your fault. I shouldn't have screamed at you like a lunatic. And if I missed anything I'm just gonna issue a blanket statement to make sure I cover it all. I'm an asshole and I'm sorry."

Kofi laughed. "That was the dumbest apology I've ever heard." He held his hand out to Punk. "But I accept it."

Punk shook his hand and pulled his friend into a one-armed hug. They embraced for a second, Punk glad to have his friend back. Then they shoved each other back laughing and joking. "You wanna hang out tonight?" Punk asked.

"Actually I was going to head over to Randy's party. You should come with me."

Punk had forgotten about Randy's party. He was having a big bash at his house to celebrate RAW 1000 since he lived here in St. Louis. He'd originally planned to go, John making plans for them to stay at Randy's house instead of in a hotel while they were in town. Obviously he wouldn't be staying there now, but Randy was John's best friend. Which meant that John was more than likely still staying with Randy and Cody, and would almost definitely be at the party. Punk knew he shouldn't go to the party. It was best for him and John to keep some distance between them until they'd both moved on. Nope, he wasn't going.

Kofi knocked him on the shoulder. "What's up man? You going or not?"

Punk looked at his friend. He really should stay away from John. He opened his mouth to tell Kofi that he was just gonna head to the hotel. At least that's what he planned to say. Instead he answered, "A party sounds like a great idea. Let's go."

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: I hope everyone had a great Christmas/Hanukkah/Festivus/Kwanza/Winter Solstice! Santa brought me a CM Punk figure – I'm still waiting on the life sized version. If all of you are on the nice list I'll post again before the year is out. Or maybe I should want you guys to be on the naughty list since we're all smutty slash readers, lol. And poor determined John and conflicted Punk. Raise your hand if you think it's a good idea for Punk to go to this party.

Thanks for all your reviews, constructive criticisms, favs, and follows. Your support means a lot to me!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. As much as I might wish it I realize that John Cena and CM Punk are not in the middle of a stormy D/s relationship. No money is being made – so please don't sue me Mr. McMahon.

**Warning**: cursing & gay sex

**A/N**: This is actually one of the first chapters I sketched out for this story. I was listening to Marilyn Manson's version of Tainted Love and the idea for it popped into my head. When I sat down to write it this week I put the song on repeat and this is what came out. Hope you like it!

* * *

John lay back in one of the lounge chairs on Randy's upstairs balcony. The night air was muggy and hot, only the barest hint of a breeze blowing ever so often. He took another sip of the beer he'd been nursing for the past thirty minutes. Randy's party was in full swing, the sounds of thumping music and people talking and laughing taking over the quiet St. Charles neighborhood. But John was alone. He didn't really feel like partying – not even to celebrate the majorly successful RAW 1000. Of course he'd go down and join the party later – he just wasn't ready yet. He kept going over everything that had passed between him and Punk that day. In particular those black trunks and the bruise that Punk had left uncovered. He didn't want to be crazy-stalker-ex who looked at everything as a reason to try and get back with his lover, but something was telling him that those actions had been deliberate. If they _were_ deliberate then he wanted to know what they meant. Was Punk signaling him that he wanted to come back? Or was Punk taunting him with reminders? He didn't think Punk was one to play games like that. But even without playing games Punk was still messing with his head with his mixed signals. He was lifting the bottle of Bud Light to his mouth again when his phone buzzed with a text. It was from Cody.

_Punk is here. _

John squelched his immediate urge to go down and find Punk. Just because Punk was there didn't mean that he wanted to see him. If he did all he had to do was call. Or catch up to him after their match. He'd done neither. Punk was probably just there for the party like everyone else. Another text came.

_He looks really sad. _

John's fingers clenched on his new phone. He needed to stick by his decision. Punk would have to come to him to try and work things out. He wasn't going to put himself out there to be rejected again. His phone lit up his little corner of night with another text from Cody.

_He keeps staring at my collar. _

John was out of that chair in a flash. He set the bottle down on the balcony railing and headed downstairs.

* * *

Punk watched as Cody put his phone away. "Who do you keep texting?"

"Oh, just somebody who needs direction."

"You mean direc_tions_."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Yeah, grammar police. That's what I meant to say."

Cody resumed the story he was telling about the fit Randy had thrown when he realized Vince was really going to make him sit out RAW 1000 in his hometown, but Punk was barely listening. All he could think about was John. He knew John was at the party somewhere since Cody had not so casually mentioned that he was staying there. He looked back at Cody and tried to pay attention to their conversation, but his gaze was caught again by the silver medallion around the younger man's neck – his public sign of belonging to the Viper. Without him realizing it his fingers came up to his own neck, missing the feel of John's collar around his throat. Punk had to look away from Cody's collar as he wanted his own back so bad he hurt. But when he looked up his eyes immediately clashed with John's. He was standing across the room watching him. Punk dropped his hand, but he knew it was too late and that John had seen the telling gesture. Punk stood there frozen unable to tear his gaze away from John's. When John jerked his head towards the hallway and then headed that way Punk followed immediately, not even noticing that he was leaving Cody mid-sentence.

XX

John waited for Punk inside the guest room he was staying in during their trip to St. Louis. When the dark haired man arrived John stepped back and let him into the dimly-lit room. After closing the door he stared at Punk without saying a word. Punk dropped his eyes and lowered his head. "Do you want to talk?" John asked. Punk shook his head slowly still not looking at him. "So you're just here for sex then? You want the physical pleasure of submitting to me but nothing else?" Punk finally looked at him. John saw the struggle on Punk's face and then the answer to his question. It wasn't the one he wanted, and it pissed him off. But he was even more pissed at himself, because he knew he wasn't going to walk away from this and he wouldn't allow Punk to either. John knew it wasn't a good idea for them to have sex with the way things were between them, especially when he'd just made the decision to move on. But he couldn't pass up this chance to be with Punk once more.

John wrapped his hand around Punk's throat in the space where his fucking collar should be, struggling to push down his anger at the situation they were in. It helped that Punk didn't resist him, he just allowed John to tilt his head back, his eyes wide as he waited to see what John would do. John pulled Punk in close wanting to kiss him, but decided at the last second that he wouldn't. That's not what this time between them was about. Instead he walked Punk backwards guiding him further into the room. With a bit of pressure he forced Punk down onto his knees. Releasing his hold on Punk's neck he unzipped his jeans, pushing them down just enough to pull his cock out. He was already hard and throbbing looking at Punk on his knees before him. John didn't speak, he just grabbed Punk by the back of the head and held him there as he rested the head of his cock against Punk's bottom lip. Smart boy, he opened up immediately and John pushed into Punk's hot wet mouth. John's other hand came up to hold Punk's head completely still as he thrust over and over, fucking into Punk's mouth, taking what he wanted instead of allowing Punk to give it to him. But even with his rough treatment he could feel Punk using his tongue to rub against the sensitive underside of his cock. He gripped Punk's head tighter, thrusting faster and Punk moaned, the sound sending vibrations tingling along his shaft. John groaned and pushed himself in deep until he hit the back of Punk's throat and held himself there. He looked down to see Punk's eyes closed, the expression on his face one of peaceful bliss. John loosened his grip and stroked his thumb over Punk's cheek. "Phil." At his whisper Punk's eyes opened and met his. For a moment John saw the sweet submission that he'd grown accustomed to seeing whenever Punk served him. But then Punk blinked and the look was gone. Punk closed his eyes again and John's anger came surging back.

John pulled himself out of Punk's mouth. He put his foot in the middle of Punk's chest and pushed until Punk tumbled onto his back. John followed him down spreading Punk's legs with his hips so that he could rub their cocks together. He ground against him and it felt good but it wasn't nearly enough. He sat up and pulled Punk's shirt over his head before yanking his shoes and the rest of his clothes off until he lay there naked. John looked at Punk. He was tempted to take him dry, but even in his anger he couldn't hurt him. "Don't you move from this spot," he ordered. John got up to get lube from his bag, taking his time, letting Punk know they were doing this on his terms. When he came back Punk was just as he'd left him, flat on his back, his legs still open for him. John dropped back down to his knees between those spread thighs and tossed the bottle of lube to Punk. "Get me ready."

Punk sat up and squeezed the cool liquid over his cock. He set the bottle aside and slowly pumped his fist over his shaft, spreading the liquid around. Then his fingers slid lower to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly and rolling them in his hand. It felt good so John allowed it for a moment before he knocked his hand aside and pushed Punk back down. "That's more than I asked you to do and you know it." John stretched himself out over Punk. He didn't remove any of his own clothes, he just fisted his cock and lined himself up against Punk's entrance. Without any preparation he started to shove himself inside. Punk groaned but John just snapped, "You can fucking take it." Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead as he pushed the head of his cock past that tight ring of muscle. The way Punk's ass gripped him was amazing, but when he was only half way inside he stopped. He looked down at the bruise on Punk's thigh and brushed his thumb over the mark. "You left this visible tonight. And you wore the trunks I like. Why?"

Punk's eyes slid away from his. "I forgot about the mark and I already told you about the tights."

John wasn't buying it. And although his cock was throbbing, his balls aching, he wasn't going any further until he got his answer. "Don't lie to me. I'll leave you here on this floor by yourself if you do it again." He pushed in another inch drawing a moan from Punk. "Did you want me to notice?" He saw Punk's jaw set stubbornly and he started to withdraw. "Answer me!"

Punk's eyes snapped back to his. "Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because I still think about being yours."

John froze thinking that this was it. That Punk was going to come back to him. "Then why aren't you?"

Again Punk closed his eyes, obviously hiding from him. "John, please… I told you … Can we just …" He tightened his inner muscles, squeezing his shaft and John had to stifle a groan. He clenched his jaw in frustration but he gave in to what Punk was asking and his body was demanding. He started to push forward again and he kept going until he was balls deep in Punk's ass.

John braced his hands on the floor. He was breathing hard and had to fight to keep his hips still. Punk was so damn hot and tight and he missed being inside him so much that he had to push back the urge to come immediately. After John regained a bit of control he started to thrust slowly. Punk's hands came up to rest on his back. "You don't get to touch me," John hissed. He yanked Punk's hands off of him. "Keep your hands on the floor." When Punk complied, John kept up with his slow pumping, wanting to savor the feeling of being inside his love again for as long as he could. John pushed deeper until he was striking Punk's pleasure spot. As he watched Punk started to writhe underneath him. His teeth bit into his thin bottom lip, obviously trying to hold back from speaking. John wasn't going to allow that. It was bad enough Punk wouldn't talk to him about their relationship, he wasn't going to let him be silent during this.

"Stop holding back. Talk to me." He thrust almost brutally hard several times and Punk moaned.

"I – I want…"

When he trailed off moaning again John leaned down and bit his nipple, tugging the tender flesh into his mouth and pulling. Punk cried out, his legs coming up to squeeze tight against John's sides. John released him. "Tell me right now what you want." He slowed his thrusts even more, dragging his cock out of Punk's hot gripping channel before pushing back in at a snail's pace. "Do you want me to go faster?"

Punk shook his head and opened his eyes to look up at John. "I want … oh god… I want whatever you want, Sir," he gasped.

_Fuck!_ John loved hearing those words from Punk and they set him off like nothing else could have. He rose up on his knees and grabbed Punk's thighs pulling him closer and throwing his legs over his arms. John dug his fingers deep into those sexy thighs, knowing he was leaving marks and not giving a shit as he slammed his cock into Punk's ass over and over again. Punk was moaning and gasping and crying out his name beneath him, back arching off the floor, his skin gleaming slick in that sheen of sweat that John so loved. He saw that his lover's cock was hard and stiff against his belly but as much as he wanted to he didn't touch it. He didn't lean down and lick up that gorgeous sweat from his lover's chest. He didn't kiss his lover's mouth or suck on that lip ring. In his anger that Punk had spooked and asked to be released when he always submitted to John so beautifully he denied them both those things. But John could barely stand the temptation. So he pulled out and dropping Punk's legs he flipped him over onto his belly. Yanking the smaller man up onto his knees he rammed his cock back into Punk almost before he could take a breath. His hips pistoned back and forth as he fucked Punk so hard he would feel it for a week, Punk's cries for more urging him on.

Punk was in ecstasy. The rough carpet abrading his knees and palms didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was beneath John again. That John was inside him again, his thick hardness stretching him and filling him up. His breath came in quick pants and he tingled from head to toe as the broad head of John's cock struck his sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again. The pleasure he felt was so intense that he was light-headed. It made him moan. Made him spread his legs wide and bend down, thrusting his ass in the air so that John could reach even deeper inside him. But it wasn't just the physical pleasure that had him feeling so good. Being dominated by John like this was what he wanted. He'd never understood it – barely questioned it- and maybe he should have. But right now he _needed_ to let John control his body. As John continued to thrust into him he gasped. He was so hard and he wanted to stroke himself off – but even now he obeyed the command that John had given him months ago and he didn't touch himself. He was about to ask for permission to do so when John's hand pulled his hair and scattered his thoughts.

John's head was buzzing with pleasure that Punk was submitting to him again, but he needed to hear Punk admit it. He reached up and twisted his fingers in Punk's dark hair and pulled back until his spine arched. "Who do you belong to?" He barely heard Punk's whispered reply. John yanked on the hair in his grasp. "I said, who do you _fucking_ belong to?" This time the response was loud and clear.

"You! I'm yours, John – Sir. Please … take me. Own me."

As the words poured out of Punk's mouth John roared and pounded into his sub. Punk was _his_ goddamnit! Punk started chanting softly over and over again, "I'm yours. I'm yours." John couldn't take it anymore. He reached down and fisted Punk's cock, finding it hard and slick with pre-cum. He jacked him furiously, not letting up or even giving him the chance to ask for permission to come. His fist slid up and down that wet cock faster and faster until Punk screamed, his cum gushing over John's hand in hot steady pulses. Sweat ran down his spine and his shirt stuck to his back as he pounded Punk's ass. His fingers were clenched tight on his lover's hips as he yanked them back to meet his thrusts. Punk's channel had clenched so tight around his cock with his release that it practically pulled John's orgasm from him. He'd meant to pull out, to deny Punk the pleasure of feeling his ass filled with his Dom's cum, but when the time came he couldn't do it. Punk felt so damn good wrapped so tightly around his cock, and he refused to miss the satisfaction he gained in marking his sub in that way. John felt his orgasm rushing up his shaft. He threw back his head and shouted, pulling Punk's hips tight against his as his balls tightened and his cum exploded from his cock. "Damn you, Phil. You are mine!"

XX

Punk lay wrapped in John's arms shaking and trying to catch his breath. As John's big hand stroked down his back he was surprised that John would take the time to calm him like he always did, when by all rights he should just leave him there on the floor. He tucked his face into John's neck, knowing he was probably taking advantage of his kindness, but he didn't care. He didn't know if he was going to get to be held like this again. Expelling one last sigh he finally relaxed. Only John ever got him so worked up that he needed so much time to come down. He bit back a protest as John released him and got up. When he saw him going to the en suite bath, he just laid there, still too weak to move. John came back with a damp cloth and he directed Punk to turn over. When he did he felt the warm cloth wiping up the release that had seeped out onto his legs. He lay there quietly, letting John clean him. When he was finished John tossed the towel aside and stood, pulling Punk to his feet as well. He took the clothes John handed him and re-dressed himself as John zipped his pants and went to sit on the bed. When he was done he hesitated, unsure if he should leave or not.

"Did you mean everything you said or was that just heat of the moment bullshit?"

Punk's head snapped up to find John's bright blue eyes focused intently on him. He opened his mouth but when nothing came out John continued.

"Because this is me. I am a Dom. I can't change that. And I want you as my sub."

He had to force himself not to back up as John got up and walked over to him until they were chest to chest. John's voice lowered to a whisper.

"And you submit to me so sweetly."

Punk's heart started racing and he felt that now familiar funny lift in his stomach.

"I love hearing you moan when I'm inside you." John's lips brushed his. "Calling me Sir." Another brush of the lips. "Telling me you're mine." John cupped the back of his neck and brushed his thumb over his throat. "And I know you miss my collar." John stepped back. "But I can't force you to wear it. So you need to decide what you want. I don't know what made you change your mind but I'm here for you to talk to anytime."

John looked at him expectantly and Punk knew he was waiting for him to say what was going on in his head. But he was so tangled up he couldn't think what he wanted to say. And he didn't want to have this conversation with John until he understood what he wanted a little better. He saw a look of disappointment cross John's face at his silence before the bigger man pulled him in for a quick hard kiss.

"I love you Phil." Then John turned and left the room.

Out in the hall John rubbed his hand over his shorn hair seething with frustration. _Why wouldn't Punk talk to him?_ As Miz and Rey walked past him laughing, John remembered that he was at a party and tried to relax so he could make nice. He headed over to talk to Randy and Cody. As he joined them Randy smirked.

"There's a shower in that guest room you know."

John looked up at Randy. "What?"

"You smell like you've been fucking that Straight Edge sub of yours."

John shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry."

Randy laughed. "It's whatever, man. I would ask if you guys straightened things out but I can tell from the look on your face that you didn't."

John shook his head. "He won't talk to me. So I still don't know why he left, even though I can tell he wants to be with me."

"Obviously. Hence the fucking."

John narrowed his eyes at Randy ready to curse his friend out. But then Cody spoke up.

"I know why he freaked and had you release him."

Both John and Randy's heads snapped around to the dark haired man. "What?" they both asked in surprise.

Cody rolled his eyes. "Please stop saying what."

"C'mon Cody. If you know something please tell me," John urged.

"I don't know that it's my place to share. If Punk isn't talking he probably wouldn't appreciate it if I blabbed."

"Jesus! Cod - "

Randy cut in. "John, Cody is right. We can't ask him to break Punk's confidence." Randy turned and looked at Cody. "But maybe he can give us a hint?"

Cody chewed his bottom lip as he considered. "I guess I can do that. It has to do with what happened in your play room, John."

John's brow creased in concentration as he tried to think. "Can you give me a little more than that?"

"What happened in your playroom … and Punk's beliefs." Then Cody looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry to say this John – please don't be angry, but you should have taken better care of him afterwards. And maybe prepared him before."

John drew in a deep breath – but not because he was angry. It was with a sense of realization. He was starting to put things together. His mind was working, figuring it all out when Randy spoke.

"Um... John? Punk is leaving."

John followed the direction of Randy's gaze and looked out the window to see Punk getting in a car. "Shit!" He rushed through the press of people trying not to knock anybody down until he burst through the front door and onto the lawn. But Punk was gone, the rear lights flashing bright as Punk braked at the stop sign down the street and then disappearing as the car rounded the corner.

* * *

Punk found the highway easily enough. He didn't normally like to drive, but thankfully St. Charles, one of St. Louis's surrounding counties, was only a straight trip down the highway to the hotel he was staying in across from Lambert Field. He'd needed to get out of there and since Kofi wasn't ready to leave he'd handed over the keys to his rental and agreed to hitch a ride back with someone later on.

After John had left the room, he'd sat down on the bed more confused than ever. If he really wanted to get away from John, then why did he so easily find himself back with him? Was it just that last itch that needed to be scratched before you could truly end a relationship? Or did he want to try to work things out with John? Or maybe … maybe something in him just wanted to submit. But maybe the person he submitted to didn't have to be John. A sign for the Missouri River sign flashed by on his right as he came to a bridge. As he looked out the passenger window down at the dark water below, he put that last thought out of his head. He was nowhere near ready to think about being with anyone else. His phone had gone off with a text soon after he left Randy's but he didn't check it until he pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was from John as he'd expected.

_Remember what I said. I'm here for you to talk to any time. And I want to apologize for not being there for you like you needed me to be. _

Punk reread that last sentence. It sounded like John was shouldering some of the blame for their break up. He didn't quite know what to say, but he didn't want to ignore John's message. So he just replied _Thank you_. Punk got out of Kofi's rental, grabbed his bags, and went up to his room.

John had squashed his first impulse to get in his car and follow Punk. It didn't make sense to chase him down. Punk obviously didn't want to talk to him right now. And maybe after what had happened in that guest room, they needed to take a moment apart to just breathe. So instead of chasing after him he'd just sent him an easy no pressure text, letting Punk know that he was there for him. John turned to go back into the house. Although the party was still going, he was headed back up to his solitary balcony. But when he walked back through the front door he came face to face with Tyson Kidd. He was standing there with an inviting smile on his face. A bottle of Jack Daniels was in one hand. The other hand played with Justin Gabriel's dark hair as the South African cuddled up under his arm. Tyson extended the bottle of Jack towards him. "Hey, John. Would you like to and come and play with us … Sir?"

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** So … was the party a good idea for Punk or not? Anybody wanna slap him right now? And Tyson sure is persistent isn't he?

Have a great New Year everyone! Be safe!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. I realize that Punk and John are not secretly pining for each other behind the scenes on RAW.

**Warning**: cursing

**A/N**: Oh you guys had me cracking up with the hate for Tyson last chapter's reviews! Among other things he was told to die in a fire and leap off a balcony. You guys are funny. Hope you enjoy the update!

* * *

John looked at the two men standing there. He reached out and took the bottle of Jack from Tyson. "Do I look like an animal? Go and get me a glass. With ice." John smirked as Tyson rushed off to do as he'd said. John looked at Gabriel. "Still don't have a Master, Justin?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No."

"So then what are you doing here with Tyson? Shouldn't you be putting yourself in a position to let Doms know you're available?"

Justin shrugged. "I guess. But there's nothing wrong with having a little fun while I'm unattached, right?

John didn't say anything to that. Tyson walked back up with his glass full of ice and he took it from him. "Let's go," he said. He led them not to the room he'd just been in with Punk but to a small study. Once inside he sat on the edge of the desk. "Justin, take a seat." He waited until Justin sat down in one of the brown leather armchairs before he turned to Kidd. "Kneel," he commanded. Tyson followed his order slowly, looking as though he wanted to say something. John poured himself some of the whiskey. He set the bottle down before taking a sip. Finally he spoke. "Tyson, I thought I told you earlier today that I wasn't interested."

"Yes, but you shouldn't have to be alone tonight. I just thought that Justin and I could make you feel better. Make you forget about … him."

John took another drink. "Is that right? This is all for me? It has nothing to do with you trying to become my submissive?"

Tyson had the grace to flush. "No. I mean … yes. You know I want to be yours, Sir."

John set his drink down. "Don't you think if I wanted you for my own I would have made that happen by now? Before I got with Punk I played with you off and on for what, two years? And in all that time I never once offered you my collar. Doesn't that tell you something, Tyson?"

The embarrassed flush on Tyson's face deepened to a dark angry red. "That's because all that time you were thinking about Punk! I saw you always watching him. And during your feud he was all you would talk about! You think I didn't know that you were wishing you were with him instead of me? It made me mad. Punk wasn't even a submissive, he barely even gave you the time of day, and still you wanted him."

John wasn't bothered by Tyson's little outburst. Everything he said was true. But John had been very clear with Tyson every time he'd called or Tyson had come to him that it was a casual play session only, just for them to take the physical pleasure they needed from each other and nothing more. He crossed his arms over his chest. "So if you knew all that then why do you keep thinking that I will take you as my own?"

"Because you always called me when you needed release! No one else, I know."

John sighed. That had been more about not wanting to sleep around with a bunch of people than any desire to collar Tyson, but he didn't say that out loud. "What about when I collared Punk?"

"I honestly didn't think it would last," Tyson answered with a shrug. "And I thought once you got him out of your system you would see that I was the one for you."

John snorted. Punk would never be out of his system. He looked down at Tyson. "Tyson I'm sorry that you thought that something more would develop between us. You did a real good job of pretending to be on board with our casual relationship. But this time I need you to listen up and really understand what I'm saying to you. As long as there is even the slightest chance that Punk will be mine again then I will do everything I can to get him back. And if he comes back to me I have no intention of ever being with anyone else." John stood up. "Punk is the only one I want." He looked at Justin who was looking extremely uncomfortable. "Not Justin." He looked back down at Tyson. "Not you. No one but Punk. So not only do I find your play to entice me with liquor and the promise of a threesome extremely forward and unattractive in a submissive, I also find it completely useless because I have zero interest. _I do not want you_. Do you understand that?" Tyson had tears in his eyes but he nodded. John ignored Tyson's tears. He hated to be so harsh, but he knew if he offered Tyson even the slightest amount of comfort it would undo everything he'd just said. "Good. Now both of you need to leave."

Tyson immediately jumped to his feet and stormed out. Justin got up slowly.

"I'm sorry, John. I had no idea what was going on with you and Punk. And Tyson made it seem as though you would be welcome to the idea of us spending a night together."

John wasn't angry with Justin. He knew he hadn't been a part of Kidd's scheming. "Don't worry about it. But Justin I hope you'll take this advice. If you want to belong to someone then you need to stop listening to Tyson and going along with what he says. No Dom will take the right kind of interest in you if all they see is you following his influence."

Justin smiled slightly. "Thank you, John. You're right."

John clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly and Justin turned to go. But just as he was reaching for the doorknob the door flew open and Randy burst in. John looked at his friend. "What the hell?"

"Cody told me he saw you go off with Tyson and Justin." Randy looked around the room as if he was expecting to find Tyson hiding behind some furniture.

John looked and saw Cody peeping around the corner. He laughed. "And so … what? You're here to join in?"

"Don't be a smart ass John. I'm here to make sure you don't do something you'll regret."

John laughed again before he told Justin bye. He left the room looking relieved. John headed back over to the desk to pick up his drink. "Come on in Cody – I promise there's nothing happening in here that Randy doesn't want you to see." He took his seat on the edge of the desk again, smiling at his friends as he sipped his drink. "Randy, I just got finished fucking that Straight Edge sub of mine, as you so romantically put it. And I'm determined to get him back. So why would either of you think that I'd have a threesome with those two?"

Randy sat down in the wing chair and pulled Cody onto his lap. "What were we supposed to think when you went off alone with them and a bottle of whiskey? Besides when you got here you said you accepted that Punk didn't want to be with you anymore."

John nodded. "True. I came in here with Tyson to set him straight once and for all. But as far as what I said earlier – you can ignore that. That was just me being a pathetic loser. I'm not giving up so easily. Punk is mine. I know it and he knows it. I may have made some dumb mistakes both before and after we broke up. But we're going to sit down and talk this out."

Randy smiled and kissed Cody's cheek. Never give up, huh John?"

John smiled back. "Damn straight."

* * *

A week later, John was struggling to maintain his positive attitude on winning Punk back. He'd sent Punk a few more texts asking if he wanted to talk. He'd called him once. He'd approached him at Saturday's house show. But so far he hadn't convinced Punk to really talk to him. Punk had replied to his texts with one word responses, _Thank you. Okay. Soon_. Punk had answered his call. He'd agreed that they needed to talk and that he _wanted_ to talk. But John couldn't get him to give a definitive answer on when. And at the house show he'd been skittish, at first seeming as though he were ready to talk, but then quickly backtracking and leaving to go to the trainer. By this point John was frustrated. He wasn't going to give up – but he didn't want to cross the line and come off as harassing Punk either. What he _wanted_ to do was find Punk, drag him off, tie him up if he needed to, and force him to talk things out with him. But he worried that might freak Punk out even more. Especially since he'd run off after their crazy angry sex at Randy's. So instead he planned to find Punk and _gently_ tell him he'd be waiting whenever he was ready. John dug his thumbs into his temple in frustration. And if after a few days that didn't work? He'd go with Plan B to chain Punk to his bed.

* * *

"Hello, Punk. How are you?"

Punk was in catering fixing himself a plate of grilled vegetables when he heard the deep British-accented voice behind him. He grabbed a napkin and fork before he turned around and answered. "Doin' good. How's that elbow?"

Barrett flexed his bicep, swinging his forearm back and forth. "Feeling alright. Ready to get back in that ring and annihilate some of you Yanks."

Punk laughed and headed to an empty table to sit down. He didn't say anything when Wade joined him. The tall Brit had been back on the circuit with them for the past week, doing the dark matches to get ready to return to television. And ever since he'd come back he'd been coming around Punk making small talk and doing a little bit of flirting. Punk wasn't stupid. John had told him that day in Spain that Wade was a Dominant and he figured that the man had heard through the grapevine that he'd been John's sub. Punk hadn't encouraged Wade, but he hadn't told him to fuck off either. He couldn't help thinking that he needed to see if he would have the same reactions to another Dom that he did with John. He'd gotten deeply involved with John so damn fast and he'd never stopped to think about what he was experiencing. He wanted to know if that intensity he felt submitting to John was because something in him wanted to submit, or because something in him wanted to submit to _John_. He needed to understand that a little better before he talked to John. He figured the only way he could find that out was to be with another Dom. And Wade was clearly interested in him. He saw Wade look briefly over his shoulder but before he could turn to see what he was looking at the big man touched his hand.

"Would you like to go out with me tonight, Punk?"

Punk hesitated for only a second. If he wanted to find out the answer to his question, here was the opportunity to do so. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"There's not too much open when we get out of here so why don't we - ."

Wade abruptly stopped talking and stood up. Punk knew without turning around that it was because John was behind him. He was proven right when John stepped up and stood toe to toe with Barrett, glaring up at the taller man.

"What are you doing here, Barrett?"

Barrett looked down his nose at John. "Not that it's any concern of yours, but Phil here has just agreed to go out with me tonight."

John's nostrils flared in anger as he bowed up to Wade. "He's not going anywhere with you."

Wade smirked. "Is that right? I don't see your mark of ownership anywhere on him. So I don't think you're in a position to say anything about who he spends time with."

Punk saw the rage come over John's face and knew things were about to get ugly. John shoved Wade hard making him stumble back. But Barrett wasn't cowed and his hand clenched into a fist.

"Don't put your hands on me again, Cena."

"Listen up you stupid Brit -."

Punk jumped up and cut John off. "Jesus fucking Christ! Are you two kidding me? Is this the part where I say, 'Easy boys there's enough of me to go around?'" Both men turned and looked at him. Both of their faces were still hard with aggression, but Punk saw a glimmer of amusement in John's eyes at his remark before anger took back over. "Would you guys cut this out before you embarrass me anymore than you already have?" Looking around Punk could see several of his co-workers avidly watching their little drama. Too many people knew about his and John's relationship for it to be a secret any longer, but so far no one had said anything to him about it. Punk spoke quietly to John. "John, Wade is right. I'm not yours so you don't get to say who I spend time with." John's lips parted as though he wanted to speak but he didn't say anything. Instead the most awful look of hurt and sadness bled across his face. It made Punk feel like shit and he hurt for John deep in his chest … deep in his gut. But he had to do this. He looked up at Wade. "I'll find you after the show." Then he left. He didn't bother to bring his food with him, he wasn't hungry anymore anyway.

John looked at Wade. He was shaking he was so furious. "Don't you fucking dare hurt him."

Wade smirked again. "It's not your concern what I do with sweet little Phil. Besides we both know if he didn't want to be hurt just a tad then he wouldn't have agreed to go out with me."

John reigned in his urge to add yet another break to Barrett's nose. "Hurt him and I will hurt you so bad you'll wish you could go back to the pain of your elbow being ripped out of its socket." He stormed off. His blood pumped furiously through his veins and he was so damn pissed off he could barely see straight. Thank fuck he had a match tonight. He needed to work out this anger and aggression somehow. But that wasn't happening for a few more hours. He needed to do something before then or he was going to fucking explode. He saw Randy sitting there doing nothing but playing on his phone. "Come practice with me."

Randy looked up at him. "Oh fuck. What happened?"

John had to force the words out past the tight ball of hurt and anger in his throat. "Punk is going out with Wade tonight."

Randy looked dumbfounded. "And you're going to let him?"

John clenched and unclenched his fists. "He's not mine, Randy. I can't stop him from doing what he wants," he said, almost choking on the words.

Randy closed his eyes and sighed. "Let's go. But please remember that I have a match with Big Show tonight."

John nodded tightly. He needed to destroy something. Since that wasn't an option he'd settle for knocking Randy around in the ring.

* * *

Punk finished the last of his vegetarian shepherd's pie and sat back. Wade had asked one of the gophers to run out and get them both something to eat from a restaurant during the show since there wasn't much open but fast food once they finished up. That's how they'd ended up here, eating and talking at the table in Wade's hotel room. He watched as Wade took the last bite of his steak and then neatly wiped his mouth.

"Did you enjoy your dinner, Punk?"

"Yeah, it was good, thanks. Much better than what I'm normally stuck eating late at night."

Wade smiled. "You're welcome." He sat back in his chair and gave Punk a long look. "You're awful far away over there. Come and sit by me."

Punk recognized the order in Wade's request. He didn't feel that urge to obey like he did with John, but he still got up and moved his chair until he was right next to Wade before sitting back down.

"So tell me Punk. How did you get into the Scene?"

Punk shrugged. "I was seeing John. And after a few weeks he told me that he was into BDSM. He asked if I wanted to try it and I said yes."

Wade raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"I tend to jump into things feet first," Punk answered.

Wade made a non-committal noise. "I'll admit that I've been attracted to you for a long time, Punk. I just didn't realize you were open to the Scene. If I had I might have asked you out sooner."

Punk didn't say anything in response. He couldn't help but think that if Wade had been the one to ask him he might not have said yes.

"So tell me Punk. Did you enjoy submitting?"

"Yes." He was honest but he didn't elaborate.

Wade traced his fingers over the tattoo on the back of Punk's hand. "Hmmm… I'd like to see that. I bet you're beautiful restrained and awaiting your Master's pleasure."

Punk remembered John tying him up and telling him how beautiful he was but he pushed the thought away. He was here with Wade – he didn't need to be thinking about John right now.

Wade's fingers circled his wrist. "I'd like to kiss you Punk. Will you allow me to do that?"

This time it was Punk's turn to look at Wade. When he did he didn't see anything but open honest desire. And Punk did feel a slight attraction to the tall Englishman. He nodded thinking that this could be his chance to understand a little more about his feeling of submission. Wade stood pulling him up as well. Wade pressed his hand into the small of his back, pressing their bodies together lightly. Wade's lips were warm as they touched his. Punk parted his lips almost immediately, not waiting for Wade to get to that point. He felt like he wanted to hurry things along so that he could get his answers. Wade took advantage of what he offered, sliding his tongue into Punk's mouth. Punk rubbed his tongue against Wade's, feeling a slight tingle of desire. But … he couldn't help but think of how eager he'd been to accept John's kisses. And of the pleasure he felt in allowing John to dominate his mouth. He didn't feel any of that right now.

Punk tried to stop thinking of John and accept the pleasure of Wade's kiss. The man was a good kisser, taking his time. But when Wade grasped him by the back of the neck he froze, wanting to pull away. He tried to relax again and when Wade told him to put his arms around him he did. But it felt awkward and uncomfortable to hold on to him. Wade must have sensed something was off because he pulled back from their kiss and looked at him as though he were searching for answers of his own.

"If I told you to kneel for me, right now, would you do it?"

Punk blinked. "Why are you asking me that?"

Wade chuckled ruefully. "That answers my question." He went and sat back down in his chair leaving Punk standing there confused. He took a sip of his drink before he looked back at Punk. "Punk, I don't know why you and John are apart. But you can't submit to anyone else when your soul has already found its Master."

* * *

John was in bed flipping through the channels. He was looking for something, anything that would hold his attention and take his mind off the fact that Punk was out with Wade right now. A knock sounded at his door. He was tempted to ignore it but figured he might as well take care of whoever it was. It might at least give him a few minutes distraction. When he went over and looked through the peephole he saw Tyson standing there. He opened the door in annoyed surprise. "Really, Tyson? So nothing I said to you at Randy's stuck in your head?"

Tyson raised his hands up in a defensive posture. "Hear me out before you yell and slam the door in my face. You said as long as there was a chance that you could get Punk back then you wouldn't think about being with anyone else. But I know that Punk is out with Wade right now. I figure that's got to be a pretty clear sign that he's moved on."

John's jaw clenched in anger. He didn't want to admit it, but Tyson might be right. "That doesn't mean that I want to be with you Tyson."

"I know. But I know you're upset. I saw you in the ring with Randy. And I remember that you don't like to be alone for too long."

Tyson was right again. He remembered all those times he'd called Kidd to his room because he got fed up with being alone and the need to dominate someone became too strong for him to ignore. "So? What's your point?"

"My point is that I could be with you tonight. You could take some of your anger out on me."

John braced his hand on the door frame. He was actually considering letting Tyson in. To just lose himself in punishing Kidd so that he could forget about everything for a couple of hours. After all, Punk was out on a date with Wade fucking Barrett. Tyson sensed he was about to give in because he came closer and touched his hand. His left hand. And suddenly John remembered Punk's smart ass remark back from their first fight. _I don't care how mad or upset or _discouraged_ you get. If you're not sleeping with me your new boyfriend is your left hand. Understand?_ John had to smile.

"I'm sorry Tyson, but the answer is no. I might be discouraged right now. But I'm not willing to end things with Punk for sure by sleeping with someone else."

Tyson sighed and shook his head. "I hope Punk knows how lucky he is."

John laughed. "Trust me. It's definitely the other way around." Tyson just shook his head again and walked off down the hallway.

John watched him go for a moment. He was about to close the door when he turned and looked down the other end of the hall. Punk was standing there. When he saw John looking at him he turned and went back the way he'd come. But John wasn't going to let him go that easy. He stepped out into the hallway, forgetting that he was only in his boxers. "Phil, wait!"

Punk stopped and slowly turned around.

John smiled slightly. "You're not going to make me shout down the hall are you?" He noticed Punk hesitate for a moment before he approached him. John remembered his lack of clothing and stepped back into his doorway as he waited. When Punk reached him he tried not to be obvious as he looked him over to make sure he was alright. He couldn't help it. He knew Wade's predilection for doling out pain.

"Were you coming to see me?" John's heart was pounding as he waited for Punk's answer. He didn't think Punk was staying on this floor so he was desperately hoping that he was there just to see him. After a few beats of silence Punk said yes and John wanted to whoop with happiness. But Punk looked so damn nervous and solemn that he didn't. "Do you want to come in?" He stepped back opening the door a little wider. Punk didn't move. He just looked John up and down. John looked down at himself. He'd forgotten again that he was naked except for a pair of boxer briefs. "I can throw on some clothes, it'll only take me a second." John wanted to grab Punk and pull him into his arms. But he was determined not to give him any reason to run off. So he kept his voice soft and calm as he entreated again, "Come in, Phil." Punk came in and John closed the door behind him. "Take a seat while I get dressed."

John tried to keep his cool as he went to his bag and pulled out the first pair of sweats and t-shirt that his hand touched. But his heart was racing and his hands were shaking. Punk had come to see him! He thrust his feet into his sweats and yanked his tee over his head. He probably should have gotten dressed in the bathroom, but Punk looked like he was ready to bolt. He had a feeling if he left the room that when he came back Punk wouldn't be there. When he was dressed he joined Punk at the table. "What's up?"

Punk rested his folded forearms on the table. He'd gotten some of the answers he wanted after his time with Wade that evening. He'd been attracted to the other man. And he could see that at another time he might have thought it was fun to have a little bit of kinky sex with Wade. But that was all he felt. He didn't feel like he _needed_ to submit to Wade the way he'd felt with John almost from the beginning. And that told him just how much he felt for John. It wasn't just any Dom that could make him feel that way. Wade's comment that he couldn't submit to anyone else if he'd already found his Master had been a little dramatic, but it did help him to realize just how much he wanted to be with John. So he'd quit running and now he was here. "I wanted to talk to you."

John smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. You know I've wanted to talk to you."

Punk laughed a little at that before quieting again. "Here's the thing, John. I miss you."

Joy burst in John's chest and he reached over to touch Punk's hand encouragingly. "I miss you too." But Punk pulled his hand away.

"I miss you and I want to be with you, but I don't want you to swallow me up. You overwhelmed me before. Right now I just want to spend time with you."

John was determined for them both to be very clear with each other about everything. "What do you mean by that, Phil?"

Punk sighed. "I want to be with you when we're in the same city. I want us to talk about what went wrong. But I'm going to keep rooming with Kofi or own my own. I don't think we should have sex yet." He looked at John and then looked away. "And I don't think we should continue with our Dom/sub relationship…" He looked back at him. "… for right now at least. Is that okay?"

John nodded. "Of course. I want you to be comfortable, Phil. But most importantly I want us to work things out so we can be together again. Both of us did a pretty poor job of communicating before."

Punk thought of all those doubts that he hadn't shared with John. "Yeah. That's true."

John braced his elbow on the table. "Why don't you tell me what made you freak out after Money in the Bank?"

Punk had to laugh. He'd definitely freaked out that night. "Going into subspace played a big part in that. I wasn't ready for how I felt afterwards."

"I'm sorry. I should have prepared you and told you what to expect. That was a huge mistake on my part." They were both quiet for a moment until John asked him a question. "You didn't like the way that felt?"

"No! I loved it. It felt so good John. _You_ made me feel good. But afterwards I couldn't help comparing it to being high or thinking that it felt so good that I would crave the feeling all the time. And I just … I don't know. It felt wrong."

"Punk I'm not Straight Edge so I'm not going to say that I completely understand how you felt. But I can ask you this. When you wrestle and you have a really good match don't you get a rush of endorphins and feel really good about it?"

Punk thought how he'd felt after the Money in the Bank match last year or after the match with Rey when he'd had his head shaved. Both times and many others he'd felt like he was on top of the world. And the feeling of euphoria had lasted for hours – especially after the Money in the Bank match. "Yes."

"Well you probably love that feeling, and look forward to experiencing a really good match like that again, but you don't crave it and feel like you can't function without it, right?"

Punk answered yes again.

"Well I'm not saying that going into subspace is the same as that. But I am saying that it was your own mind and body that made you feel that way in both situations not anything that you took. So you're no more likely to become addicted to the things I do to you than you are to the things you do in the ring. Does that make sense?"

Punk nodded. After he'd calmed down he'd had the same thought. It had just been such a different feeling for him that he'd needed time to come to grips with it.

John smiled. "I'm not trying to solve that problem for you right here right now, but I just wanted to give you something to think about. And we can talk about this again anytime you want."

Punk was relieved that he'd finally told John how he felt and he was happy that John didn't make light of the situation. He knew a lot of people didn't get Straight Edge and that was fine with him. He wasn't here to preach to the masses about his lifestyle. But he appreciated when people respected his choice. John clearly not only respected that he was Straight Edge but he understood the problem he had with going into subspace and tried to help him relate it to something positive in his life. "Thank you John. I'll think about what you said. Like I said, I just wasn't ready for that and … well shit, it scared the fuck out of me to be honest."

John touched his hand and this time Punk didn't pull back. "You're welcome. And again I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you like you needed me to be while you were going through that. Was there anything else about that night that bothered you?"

Punk started to shrug then he stopped himself. He needed to admit to John the things that bothered him. Otherwise how would they stand a chance of moving on? He looked John in the eye. "I don't think I was ready ... No I definitely wasn't ready to call you Master." Punk saw a hurt and disappointed look cross John's face before he hid it.

John leaned back in his chair. "Okaaaay."

Punk squeezed John's fingers repeating the words he'd once said to him. "Don't hide from me, John." When John's lips curled in a small smile Punk continued. "Tell me what you're thinking."

John sighed. "I won't lie Phil. That hurt hearing that. I thought that you accepted your submission to me."

"I did. But you _know_ there is a big difference between calling you Sir and calling you Master. It means something more, something deeper. It felt like I was giving up so much to you. And even though I loved it and it felt right, it also felt wrong and like I must be weak to allow myself to call another man Master." Punk laughed softly and scrubbed his hands down his face. "You probably think I'm crazy for not being able to make up my mind on that."

John shook his head. "No I don't. It's not easy submitting Phil, especially for someone as strong as you. I should have seen that you were conflicted and helped you. And I shouldn't have asked you to call me Master. So that's my fault too."

"No it's not just your fault. I could have told you how I felt about calling you Master."

John scoffed in disbelief. "Not while you were flying like that you couldn't have. I shouldn't have asked you then." John wouldn't look at him and a frown turned down the corners of his normally smiling mouth. "I'm so sorry, Phil."

Punk felt bad. John looked like he was really hurting and shouldering all of the blame for their problems himself. "John I could have spoken up before. You told me to never hide what I was feeling from you and I did. So I'm just as much to blame in this."

John stroked his fingers over his arm for a moment before he looked at him with those bright blue eyes. "But I was your Dom. I should have noticed you were struggling. I wasn't a very good Dom to you was I?"

"Don't say that John. You always took good care of me."

John smiled softly. "That's because I loved doing it." Then he sighed and looked away. "As much as I hate to admit it, I went too fast for you. I was so caught up in having you as my own I rarely stopped to think. You were just … so goddamn beautiful and intense in your submission and I had wanted you for long that I wanted to experience everything with you. Everything that I'd been dreaming of for months." Punk's heart started to race as John looked straight at him. "I can see why you felt like I swallowed you up, because that's exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to take you and lock you away with me so that I could indulge myself in dominating you in every way that I'd imagined. And I loved the way you trembled in my arms after your release, Phil. If anyone was going to become addicted to something, it would have been me with the way I craved having you turn to me for safety and comfort." John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I did overwhelm you and I'm sorry for that."

Punk was breathing hard after John's admission. John was right, they had gone too fast. But after listening to him now and knowing how he'd felt himself in submitting to John he couldn't really blame him. Punk looked down. "Don't take on all the blame for us going too fast John. I've never felt anything like what I felt when I was with you. And the more you gave me the more I wanted." After Punk finished talking they both sat there quiet and not looking at each other. Finally Punk looked back up and tried to lighten the mood. "So this was a pretty intense talk. Are we capable of doing anything lightly?"

John laughed a little. "This _has_ been a heavy talk. We should stop now before we're listening to sad country music and crying into our drinks. We can talk about everything else later. But one last thing. I didn't do anything with Tyson. He showed up at my door and offered but I turned him away."

"I know. I mean for a second I thought you might have been with him and that's why I started to leave. But when you called my name I knew you hadn't." Punk cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for going out with Wade tonight. I needed -." John cut him off before he could finish.

"I don't care Punk. Whatever happened or didn't happen it doesn't matter. All I care about is that you're here with me."

John caressed his arm again and as they looked at each other Punk knew that John wanted to kiss him. He didn't even hesitate before he gave his answer. "Yes." John leaned closer, his hand coming up to cup his cheek. John's lips brushed lightly over his.

"Thank you for coming to see me tonight, Phil," he whispered. "You don't know how happy you've made me."

"You're welcome," he whispered back. Then he closed his eyes as John softly pressed his lips to his. As John kissed him he felt the biggest sense of relief. He didn't have to keep fighting and avoiding his feelings any more.

John kissed Punk sweetly, not asking for anything more than to express his love. He was beyond happy in that moment. Punk had come back to him and they were going to work things out.

* * *

**A/N:** HEAVY, HEAVY, HEAVY! I feel like I need to go and watch Dumb and Dumber or something after writing this chapter. So Punk finally got his head out of his ass and started talking to John! But … he sorta used Wade to get to that point. Whaddyathink? Was that wrong on Punk's part?

As always thank you all so much for sticking with my story. I'm having fun writing it and I hope you are having fun reading it! Thank you for all your reviews, faves, and follows. They brighten my day in this shitty weather Houston is having.

**PS**: One of my fave Punkena stories is being updated again. Please go and check out Slaygirl190's _Secret Life of a Callboy_. It's an outstanding AU fic that I am over the moon for! I think you'll love it too. =)


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction I'm not affiliated with anyone from the WWE and I'm not making any money from this fic. So please don't send your corporate lawyers after me Mr. McMahon.

**Warning**: Cursing & m/m sexual situations

**A/N:** So I started 2013 off right! Went to RAW 20 when it was in Houston this past Monday. Not on crutches this time so no backstage trip but I still had a blast! We had great seats. You can see my friend's Rock sign and my purple Macho Man shirt in the distance several times but there wasn't any close up to tell it was us. Boo! The sign checker didn't want to let us in with our signs because she thought Punk was a bad word! I was ready to bash her over the head with said sign and run inside but her co-worker came over and explained that was his name. You can see pics of my glittery masterpieces on my Twitter ShockZ314. And Punk looked like he'd lost some weight. I'm gonna have to make him a few home-cooked meals. Haha! Yeah right, I can't cook.

This chapter includes the August 13th RAW where Punk stole John's moves. If you want to see that awesomeness again or you missed it the first time here's the link to a clip of it. Erase spaces, copy & paste: https: watch?v=1ci9krq_hzM

* * *

"You keep wearing these black and white trunks and I'm gonna start thinking you're flirting with me."

A shiver chased down Punk's spine as that smooth voice whispered in his ear. He turned around to find John there grinning at him. Punk pretended to scoff. "Don't be such an egomaniac. My wardrobe choices have nothing to do with you." He looked at John out of the corner of his eye. "I'm only wearing these because my green ones are in the wash." It was his turn to grin as John's eyes filled with heat.

It was Monday night and they were waiting backstage for their tag match against Bryan and Show to start. Things were going pretty well between them. They were spending time together and talking about what had gone wrong. But kissing was their only physical contact. As a result the sexual tension and teasing between them was nearly constant. And he'd jacked off so much he was going to have to start looking for Braille versions of his favorite comics pretty soon. He knew John was in the same boat, but he never tried to push for anything more. In fact, he never brought it up. And Punk loved him for it. It meant a lot to him that John was respecting his decision to put their sex life on hold while they worked things out. But that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy teasing John like he'd just done, or that John wouldn't tease him back.

"That's too bad. You look good wearing those green tights." Then one side of his mouth curled up in a taunting smile. "Or I guess I should say, halfway wearing them."

Punk's shaft stirred as he remembered John pulling those green tights down around his thighs and taking him up against that crate. He couldn't think of anything to say that didn't end in a request for John to take him behind another crate and pull these down as well so he just gave John a mocking salute and headed towards the curtain. He wasn't surprised when he heard John's deep laugh behind him. But that was okay. He had a plan to get John back.

* * *

They'd both gone through their entrances and were in the ring ready to get underway. Well almost. John was still playing up to the crowd, throwing his little hat and smiling for all his screaming fan girls. Punk leaned in the corner and gave him sarcastic one-handed applause. When John turned and saw him he grinned. Punk went to pull his shirt off, noticing that John kept on staring as he did so, his grin growing wider. Punk fought to keep his face straight, hoping that the camera hadn't caught John staring at him like he was watching a strip tease.

John got the match started but after only a short while Punk slapped John on the back and tagged himself in like they'd planned. What they hadn't planned was Punk holding the ropes open for John. He put his foot on the bottom rope and pulled up the center one gesturing for John to go through. But he knew John wouldn't and after a few moments of John glaring at him, he laughed to himself and let them go with a snap. The match was a good one. It was full of energy, all of their moves flowing smoothly while they told a story. Bryan interacted great with Show, tagging himself in as well, wanting to do all the work. And Show played the part of the disgruntled partner to perfection by leaving the ring and going to sit down by the time keeper. Finally Punk was in the ring with Bryan again and he decided it was time to get John back.

Punk sold Bryan's attack but when it came time to make his way to John for the hot tag he veered off script. Making his way back to his feet he flew at Bryan with a shoulder block. It wasn't obvious what he was doing at first but when he did the second shoulder block he caught John's face out of the corner of his eye. He looked shocked as shit. Punk picked Bryan up for a side-powerbomb and slammed him onto the mat. He turned and gave John a sly grin over his shoulder before raising his hand high to call for the Five Knuckle Shuffle. He could hear the crowd laughing and cheering as he aped John. He was having fun with this. Punk threw himself against the ropes ready to drop his fist on Bryan's forehead. But of course John slapped him on the back for the tag. He had to fight not to smile at the look John gave him as they traded places.

John couldn't believe that Punk had done _his_ Five Moves of Doom in the ring! He wanted to spank that little butt so bad for Punk's cheek, but even more than that he wanted to laugh. He was glad that the two of them were able to have fun again. This is what he'd imagined it would be like for them to be in the ring together before their breakup. He threw Bryan in the corner, ready to get a little of his own back. Running straight at him he leaped up for Punk's flying knee. It wasn't as pretty as Punk's but he didn't care. It was the principal that mattered. John jumped down and grabbed Bryan in a headlock for the running bulldog. He heard the small man mutter; "What the fuck are you guys doing?" He couldn't answer of course because he took off running and drove Bryan's face into the mat. John got up and slapped his wrist shouting out, "It's Clobbering Time!" But Punk got the scripted match back on track and left the ring. Once John hit the AA and got the pin on Bryan he climbed the ropes to celebrate, knowing that Show was sneaking up behind him. They went through the finish, Punk knocking Show down with the belt and then John showing his distrust of Punk's intentions by refusing to shake his hand. John stayed in the ring as Punk left before finally making his way back up the ramp.

* * *

After they were both backstage, Punk did his interview with Josh Matthews while John stayed out of sight. He had to press a fist to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at Punk's snarky comment, "Looked like he learned a new move though." Once Josh and the camera crew were gone he went over to Punk.

"I can't believe you did that."

Punk grinned. "Do you watch my matches at all? It's Clobbering Time is my entrance. You should have called for the GTS." Punk tskd. "Don't try to one-up the Best in the World, John. You won't win."

John shook his head, an exasperated smile on his mouth. "What am I going to do with you?"

Punk didn't answer. Because as they looked at each other desire suddenly simmered between them. His pulse quickened as John stepped closer to him, his blue eyes darkening with need. They both knew what John wanted to do. If they were still in their Dom/sub relationship as soon as they got back to their hotel room Punk would be tied up and feeling the crack of John's belt across his ass. That wasn't going to happen, but the thought still hung in the air between them, obviously on both of their minds. Punk saw John's hand come up as though to touch him and his stomach tightened with anticipation. Was he ready to go there if John were to try and reignite that part of their relationship? He didn't think so, but right now with John standing so close and the heat of his hand hovering over his skin he was tempted. Very tempted. But John dropped his hand without even the barest caress leaving Punk wondering which he felt more, relief or disappointment.

John cleared his throat and took a step back. "Are you coming over tonight?"

Punk had to swallow hard himself before he could answer. "Yeah, I'll be there."

* * *

Later that night they were in John's hotel room. Punk was in a chair next to the bed, just like he had been every night since they'd decided to work things out. John was on the bed but in the center, the open space next to him a clear invitation for Punk to join him whenever he chose. So far Punk hadn't made that choice. It's not that he didn't trust John. He did. And of course he trusted himself. But he knew how explosive things were between the two of them. He figured it was just best not to risk it until they'd truly solved all their problems. They continued to talk about Punk's conflicted feelings on submission. Like tonight. He'd just admitted he'd been embarrassed when he called John 'Sir' in front of Kofi.

John looked slightly confused. "Kofi already knows about that part of our relationship. Why is that so bad?"

Punk lips twitched. John was being a block head. "It's not a problem for you because you wanted everyone to know I was yours."

He saw John's mouth tighten and he knew it was at his use of the past tense. So he wasn't surprised when he deliberately used the present tense when he responded.

"And you _don't_ want everyone to know that you're mine?"

Punk had to look away from him for a moment. He thought of how much he'd hated to take his collar off and having to ignore his feeling of wanting to submit to John no matter where they were. But that wasn't the point and he wouldn't let John steamroll over him on this. He looked back at him and spoke with a hint of warning in his voice. "John…"

John sighed and pressed his head back against the headboard. "I'm doing it again aren't I?"

"Trying to swallow me up? Yep."

John rolled his head over to look at him. "You did a good job of stopping me just now."

Punk paused for a moment. A single word from him and John backed down. Was that all it would take? He remembered his realization that John would do anything to keep him happy after John had apologized to him for the Tyson drama. Had he held more power in their relationship than he'd known? That was something he'd have to think about on his own. For now he just answered, "It's important to me that we keep that part of our relationship private. I think that's something we both need to work on. Cody told me once that it's just through sheer force of will that he doesn't let the true nature of their relationship show. We both need to practice that and remember the boundaries we set." Punk coughed lightly. "If we go back to that, that is." John looked at him from beneath lowered lashes but he didn't address his last remark.

"I think together we can work on that."

Punk's throat was a little tight as he answered. "That sounds fair." _Jesus_. How did John affect him so much with just a single look? He changed the subject, stopping the conversation before it got too heavy like he always did.

"Let's watch some SVU." John turned the TV on and flipped until Mariska Hargitay filled the screen. "She's my celeb crush," he joked.

John raised an eyebrow. "She looks like she could slap you around."

Punk laughed. "Maybe that's why I like her." John rolled his eyes. They watched quietly after that only talking to comment on the stupidity of the criminal. When the episode ended, Punk stood up to go. "I'd better head off to get some sleep." That was a joke. He wasn't sleeping much, but he wasn't going to tell John that. It was his problem to take care of and he knew if he mentioned it John would want to try and help him.

John stood up too. "Alright, Phil. I'll see you this weekend."

He came closer and Punk's heart started to race. He didn't know why he got so worked up when John kissed him goodnight these days. But he did, his pulse pounding every time. John stroked his back, pulling him up against his broad chest.

"Good night, Phil."

"Good night."

John kissed him pressing their lips together lightly. He didn't part his lips and John didn't try to get him to do so. It felt good to be held against John's warmth, feeling his heart beating in his chest just as rapidly as his own. John kissed him softly again and again until he couldn't stop a low moan from escaping him and he wrapped his arms around John's back, curling his fingers and pressing them tight against the hard muscles there. He wanted to open for him, to let John dominate his mouth like he always had before. Instead, he forced himself to pull away. He looked at John and saw the tension in his clenched jaw. But John didn't try to stop him. Punk said goodnight one more time and left the room.

* * *

A few nights later they were in LA for Summer Slam. Backstage John watched as Punk walked over to him. He was in his new ring gear, hot pink in tribute to the 20 year anniversary of Brett vs. The British Bulldog at Summer Slam. And fuck, fuck, _fuck_ those yellow trunks had just been toppled off the list as John's favorites. He loved everything about what Punk had on tonight. The way the fuchsia color looked against his tan skin. The way the tights sat so low on his hips. The way those kick pads hugged his legs leaving only the smooth flesh of his mouthwatering thighs bare. And he was supposed to wrestle that without getting a hard-on in front of the cameras? Punk turned to answer someone who'd called out to him and John caught a glimpse of Punk's ass cupped so tightly in that hot pink material. Forget controlling his erection later, right now he was scrambling to call up his old standard of droopy-tit grannies to head off all the blood rushing to his cock. Punk reached him and smiled, his tongue between his teeth.

"You ready for tonight, John-Boy?"

He was ready for all sorts of things, but he was pretty sure that wasn't what Punk was referring to. His voice was low and husky as he answered. "Yeah … I'm ready."

Punk tilted his head and looked at him for a moment. Then his eyes dropped down to the front of his shorts before he looked at him again. John knew what he'd just seen since Granny Vision wasn't working tonight. So he wasn't surprised at the teasing smile that tugged at his lips.

"Now, now John-Boy. Don't forget that this is a PG show. You don't want to be future endeavored like poor Val Venis."

John inhaled deeply to get his mind off of thinking about everything he wanted to do Punk. But that was a mistake because all he succeeded in doing was pulling Punk's scent down into his lungs. He closed his eyes and stole Punk's excuse for whenever he wanted to avoid something. "I've got to go see the trainer and get stretched out. I'll see you out there."

* * *

Late that night, a soft knock sounded at John's hotel room and he headed over to answer it. It was Punk like he'd expected. And he looked exhausted. He stepped back to let him in. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was just a little tiring getting knocked around by Show is all."

But John didn't think that was all. He realized that Punk was probably dealing with his insomnia again. So when Punk went to pull a chair up next to the bed John took control of the situation. "No. You're not sitting in that chair tonight."

Punk looked over at him in surprise. "What?"

John pulled him away from the chair and with a slight push got him to sit down on the bed. He kneeled down to take off Punk's shoes. "You're going to get in the bed and be comfortable tonight."

"John …"

John looked up at the tired man above him. "Just so you can relax, Phil." After a moment Punk nodded and John continued untying his laces. Once John removed both his shoes Punk scooted over to the center of the bed. John kicked off his own shoes and joined him. He grabbed the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

Punk yawned. "We can watch Sports Center if you want."

John wasn't surprised when a few minutes into the show Punk slid down and laid his head on a pillow. And a few minutes after that when he heard a light snoring he smiled. Punk obviously needed sleep. He leaned over to turn off the lamp and turned the volume down low on the TV. He wasn't that tired so he'd stay up and watch baseball highlights. The sports casters started talking about the Cardinals. As much as he hated to admit it – they were looking good even without Albert Pujols. The Redbirds would probably make it into the play-

XX

John woke up slowly. He was curled around Punk, Punk's back warm against his front. In his half-asleep state John didn't see anything wrong with that. He slipped his hand underneath Punk's shirt caressing the soft skin of his belly. He wondered briefly why Punk had fallen asleep in his clothes but the thought went out of his head when Punk shifted, his ass pressing lightly against his groin. As his cock started to harden he pressed a kiss to the nape of Punk's neck. Punk shifted again and John responded by smoothing his hand up Punk's chest to brush his thumb across a tight nipple.

Punk gave a sleepy little moan. "John we shouldn't be doing this."

John trailed his lips along Punk's neck, breathing in his sleep-warmed scent. "Mmm… why not?"

"We said we would wait … but if that's not what you want …"

Punk gasped as he pinched and tugged at his nipple.

"I'll do whatever you want. Shit! John … we shouldn't."

John suddenly came fully awake hearing Punk struggle to ignore his desire to submit and instead stay on track with what they'd agreed.. He snatched his hand from underneath Punk's shirt and sat up. "Shit. I'm sorry. I wasn't all the way awake."

Punk rolled over onto his back and looked up at him. "That's okay." He stretched. "I can't believe I fell asleep. I guess I needed that more than anything else."

"You don't have to come over when you're tired, Phil."

Punk shrugged. "It's not a problem. But I'd better go." He didn't move to sit up and John waited to see if there was anything else he wanted to say. Punk gave him a lazy smile. "Since I didn't get my good night kiss do I get a good morning kiss?"

John smiled too and leaned down, kissing Punk lightly. Punk's fingers softly brushed his cheek.

"Give me a real kiss, John."

John clenched his jaw tight. He didn't think that was a good idea. They were in bed and his body was hard and desperate for his lovers from waking up with him in his arms. But as he looked into Punk's green eyes, still soft and heavy lidded with sleep he couldn't say no. Besides what was the point of being a Dom if he couldn't control himself? He slid back down until he was lying next to Punk. Cupping the back of his head, he pulled him closer. This time when their lips met he stroked his tongue over Punk's until they parted. He swept inside kissing him deeply for the first time in weeks. Punk moaned, his tongue rubbing against his. The kiss went on growing hotter, John drawing gasps from Punk as he sucked and nibbled on his bottom lip. Punk's arms wrapped around his neck and John followed his body's natural inclination without even thinking. He slid on top of Punk, his hips resting against his lover's, Punk's thighs splitting wide to accept him between his legs.

John groaned as he felt Punk's hard shaft against his. He lightly pressed his hips down, groaning again when Punk pressed back. He did it again and by the third time Punk caught his rhythm, his hips rising to meet him so that their shafts rubbed together. John told himself this was okay. They were really only kissing as long as they kept things light. He released his lips to brush his mouth over the soft hair of his scruffy beard and further to kiss and tongue his throat. Punk's leg shifted, drawing his attention. John ran his palm down the outside of Punk's shorts until he reached the hem. He teased his fingers just underneath and when Punk didn't protest he stroked his hand up inside, just wanting to feel that smooth thigh, promising himself he would stop as soon as he reached Punk's boxers. But Punk wasn't wearing any. His hand met nothing but naked skin until he reached that sweet indention between thigh and pelvis. John's palm tingled knowing there was nothing between his hand and Punk's bare cock. It took all of his control not to grasp that hard flesh, but he couldn't resist briefly sweeping his thumb across it. Punk gasped and his hips jerked up.

John abandoned kissing on Punk's neck and moved back to his mouth kissing him hard. John slipped his hand around to cup and squeeze Punk's ass. He knew things were getting out of control. They'd gone past just kissing, their hips no longer pressing lightly, but instead moving faster and grinding their cocks together hard. But he could still keep things from going too far. He would stop … just not yet. He pressed the tip of his finger into Punk's entrance. Punk winced and he whispered an apology in his ear. Quickly pulling his hand from under Punk's shorts, he sucked his fingers getting them wet. Returning his hand to that warm skin he slowly eased a finger inside Punk's channel. This time Punk didn't complain. His body was relaxed and welcoming so John carefully added another finger. He pumped them in and out until Punk was gasping, rocking his ass back on his fingers and thrusting his hips up so that their cocks continued to grind together.

John was insanely hard as Punk's ass flexed and squeezed around him. All he could think about was taking Punk, right here, right now. Punk was his. The tight heat gripping his fingers was his. He could fuck Punk if he wanted to. As soon as that last thought crossed his mind he knew they'd gone too far. He pulled his fingers from Punk.

"We need to stop," he said, breathing hard. But he looked down at the man beneath him and saw his lips parted, that sexy flush on his cheekbones. Punk's tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip before he sucked his lip ring into his mouth and released it slowly. "Fuck," John breathed out. "Just one more kiss…" He lowered his head again and took Punk's mouth fiercely, stroking his tongue in slow and deep, just like he wanted to do to another area of Punk's body. Still, he managed to end their kiss and went to raise himself up. But Punk's leg came up and wrapped around his waist. John shuddered at the feel of that sweet thigh holding him captive. He needed to stop this now if he was going to be able to stop it at all.

"Baby, we need to stop." And he meant to. But somehow he found himself pressing his hands into the mattress to balance himself as he thrust his hips fast and hard, the bed creaking as Punk matched his movements. The friction he felt was amazing, but he wanted more. He hooked the fingers of one hand into the waistband of Punk's shorts. "Just wanna feel you against me, okay? That's all."

Punk nodded, his chest heaving as he panted underneath him. "Okay."

John started pulling Punk's shorts down. Then he paused. He was kidding himself. There was no way he would be able to stop once he had Punk naked. He would be deep inside him, riding him hard until they both were shaking and shouting with their release.

"Damnit!" John threw himself off of Punk rolling to the side of him and onto his back. He rubbed his hand over his eyes trying to bring himself back under control. He looked over at Punk who was clearly in the same aroused state. "I'm sorry. I let that get way out of hand."

"That's alright. I didn't exactly try to stop you."

John looked at Punk lying there. From the expression on his face he knew that if he were to reach out and strip Punk before pulling him back underneath him that he wouldn't stop him. But John didn't want Punk to make that decision with a mind clouded by passion. Of course he wanted Punk, but he loved him more and would wait until made the choice to fully resume their relationship on his own. He didn't want Punk to do anything he would regret later. He ignored his erection and got up from the bed. "Why don't you go shower and change? Then we can meet for breakfast before we head out."

"Sounds good," Punk said getting up.

John waited for him as he put on his shoes. When he was ready he joined John at the door. John pulled Punk in for a quick kiss, but he jerked back. His voice was shaky as he said, "Don't!" John looked at him in surprise.

Punk closed his eyes. "I'm close John. If you touch me again …"

He didn't finish his sentence but John understood, and he couldn't let Punk leave like that. "Phil, look at me." He waited until Punk's eyes slowly rose to meet his before he continued. "Let me take care of you baby. I promise we won't do anything else." When he got a nod in acceptance John pressed Punk against the door. He gently tugged down his shorts and wrapped his fist around Punk's shaft. His lover cried out and thrust his hips forward. John groaned. He really was close. Punk's cock head was already slick and his shaft pulsed in his grasp. He didn't waste any time teasing, he immediately started pumping his fist up and down, encouraging Punk to move with him. "Hold on to me, baby."

Punk's arms wrapped around his neck. Then one leg came around his waist as well. John buried his face in Punk's neck. He cupped Punk's ass with his free hand, pulling him up as tight against him as he could get while still leaving room for his hand to move on his shaft. He stroked faster, Punk's sweet gasps driving him to make sure he helped his lover reach his pleasure. He squeezed his hand around Punk's cock head and he felt Punk start to shake.

"John … Can I … oh god! I'm coming!"

John's own cock was throbbing for release as he spoke against Punk's damp neck. "Go ahead, baby. Whenever you want."

All of a sudden he felt Punk bite his neck hard. His body jerked, slamming Punk back against the door. "Fuck! Harder, Phil!" Punk bit down even more, he tightened his grip on the straining shaft in his fist and Punk's hips were pumping as he moaned with his orgasm. John loved the feel of his release spilling thick and hot in his hand once more and he kept going until he'd coaxed forth every last drop.

Punk clung to him for a few moments before he dropped his leg and eased his arms from around his neck. Still, they stayed pressed against one another until their breathing returned to normal. John finally pulled back. He used his own shirt to wipe up the pearly drops of semen on Punk's stomach and then tugged his shorts back into place. He stepped back. "You'd better hurry if you want to be able to have breakfast." He saw Punk look down at his obvious erection.

"Do you want me to …"

John cut him off. "No. I'm okay." He gave him one last kiss. "Go ahead and get cleaned up."

Once Punk was gone John leaned his forehead against the door. _Christ_. The first time he got Phil relaxed enough to join him on the bed he dry-humped him like a horny teenager and then jacked him off against the door. Not exactly the best way to show that he was on board with Punk's request to wait. It had taken everything he had not to pick Punk up and carry him back to the bed. He'd wanted nothing more than to be inside his lover again. And going by the stiff hard-on in his shorts, his body was not happy that he wasn't. That wasn't happening today so he moved to the next available option. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on cold. The spray was icy and uncomfortable as it hit his skin, but it did nothing to stop his erection. John looked at his left hand and laughed to himself. Then he palmed his cock and started to stroke.

* * *

**A/N:** Hmmm… who was more responsible for that little interlude? And yay for light bulb moments! (C'mon Punk, ya big dummy!) Repeat song for this chapter was Natalie Merchant's _Carnival_. If you're a Xena: Warrior Princess fan you might remember when they played it during all that sexual tension between Xena and Marc Antony. Not a Xena fan? I highly recommend you become one.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with the WWE and I am making no money from this fic. But if the WWE doesn't get its head out of its ass with the Diva's division I'm going to have to take action. Maybe start my own women's wrestling and entice Tamina & Natalya away from that cesspool of crap. Sorry – the Showgirl Lumber Jill matched irked me.

**Warning**: Cursing, m/m sexual situations

**A/N:** Punk lost the belt. I is sad. That is all. (That's pretty much all I could express after the Rumble)

* * *

"_I'm sorry. I let that get way out of hand." _

John's voice echoed in Punk's head as he ran. His response to that had been absolute bullshit. Not trying to stop him? Hell he'd been full on encouraging John. From the moment he'd asked John for a real kiss he'd known what would happen. He knew what John was like when he woke in the mornings. How many times had he been awakened by John kissing and stroking him to readiness? How many times had he been awakened with John poised and ready to enter him? He'd known what would happen when he asked for that kiss. His feet pounded the pavement step after step. The question was, why did he ask for it? Was he horny? Fuck yeah. But … maybe he'd been testing John. John had agreed to wait and even with as far as things had gone between them he'd kept to that promise. He hadn't tried to push for anything more. He'd only given Punk pleasure, denying himself that same chance for release. Clearly John cared about making him happy. But Punk already knew that too. Why then was he still holding back? He checked his phone, saw how many miles he'd done and turned around.

He had to be honest. Even with the realization that he didn't have to let John run roughshod over him, that he had the power to guide John to do what he wanted, he still wasn't sure he wanted to be John's sub again. But he definitely wanted to be with him. Maybe they could be together without that and instead just have a little light bondage sex every now and then. But could John ever be satisfied with that?

* * *

John was up watching Sports Center. Punk was in the bed with him, already curled on his side and asleep. John was again wrapped around him. But this time he was propped up on one elbow and better armed to stay awake, thanks to a late night Starbucks run. It was the routine they'd fallen into when they were on the road together. Punk would come to his room, joining him on the bed. They would talk – sometimes about their relationship and sometimes not. John would see Punk getting tired and encourage him to lie down. And once Punk was asleep he'd turn off the lights and turn down the TV. But he always stayed awake. He wanted to make sure they didn't have a repeat of what had happened the first night Punk fell asleep with him. Around 5 in the morning he would wake Punk up, send him back to his own room to get ready for the day, catch an hour or two of sleep himself, and hit the road. At this point the only time he got any real sleep is when he was at home. Was he insane? Probably. But he wanted to spend this time with Punk and he loved having the chance to hold him in his arms at night. Besides, he knew Punk had been having trouble sleeping again but when Punk stayed with him he slept with ease.

John smoothed his hand over Punk's hip and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. Yeah he was insane, but Punk trusted him enough to sleep with him. He knew that soon Punk would be his again. A few days of sleep deprivation was worth it. As he continued to rub Punk's leg he heard a soft moan come from the sleeping man. John stopped, thinking that he was disturbing Punk's sleep. He quieted for a few moments before moaning again. John started to move his hand off Punk's leg completely but the next whispered moan stopped him.

"John…"

All of him froze, except for one part that was rapidly thickening and hardening. Punk started moving restlessly in his sleep. If it wasn't obvious what he was dreaming about before, his next words made it clear. "Sir, please…" John groaned quietly. Hearing Punk call him that while he was sleep and didn't know what he was doing was torture. Still, he responded to his sub's subconscious plea. John slowly and carefully pulled down Punk's shorts trying not to wake him. He hardened even further when he saw that yet again Punk didn't have on anything beneath the loose shorts. It probably wasn't the smartest idea, but he lightly grasped Punk's hand and guided it to his shaft. As much as he wanted to feel Punk in his hand, he didn't trust himself to touch him without waking him and taking it further. He moved their hands together for a few strokes until Punk was doing it on his own. He let go, watching as Punk pleasured himself. His hand moved slowly up and down on his shaft, his lips parted as he panted slightly in his sleep. From the small beads of sweat dotting Punk's forehead and his faster breathing, John knew that Punk was on the verge of release in his dream. He was glad that it was nearly over. It was difficult listening to his soft moans and watching his tattooed hand stroking his stiff cock, knowing he couldn't wake Punk and give him what he was experiencing in his dream. But then came a whisper that almost shattered his resolve.

"Sir, please may I come?"

John's fists clenched in frustration as he held himself back from touching Punk. In his sleep Punk submitted to him. When would he do so when he was awake? He couldn't help it. He had to be a part of this in some way. Leaning over Punk's ear he whispered back, "Come for me, baby." John lightly traced his tongue over the rounded shell of Punk's ear and then watched as Punk's hips pumped his release. John's cock throbbed, desperate to push inside of his lover. Desperate to feel those hot walls clenching him tight as he came, drawing forth his own climax. John dared to kiss Punk's neck lightly his tongue lapping at his sweaty skin. He managed to hold himself back from doing anything else and finally Punk was done. Punk sighed, snuggling back even closer against him. His body relaxed as he fell back into a deep sleep. Meanwhile, John was so tense it felt like he was vibrating. With a shaking hand he grabbed a corner of the sheet and cleaned Punk up as best he could before pulling his shorts back up. Then he scooted back to put space between his body and Punk's. He wouldn't be able to get his erection under control with Punk's ass cradled between his hips. Unfortunately, Punk scooted back with him, keeping his body pressed tight to John's like he always did. John tried to move once more but again Punk followed him a frown creasing his forehead. John gave up and stayed where he was. It would be comical if he wasn't so goddamn hard. He looked at the clock. 4:05. He only had to suffer for 55 minutes. Then he could wake Punk up. John fixed his attention back on the TV, now even more determined not to fall asleep. If he did he was likely to wake up with his cock already buried in Punk's ass.

John stared at the TV for 10 minutes before he realized he was watching She-Ra . The TV was still on the channel Punk liked to watch for its 80's cartoon reruns. He left it there, going from the Princess of Power to He-Man. When it was over John looked at the clock. 5 am. Thank fuck. He shook Punk's shoulder. "Phil. Wake up."

Punk woke up stretching and yawning. As he stretched he arched his back, pressing his ass into John's straining erection. John hissed in pained pleasure. He grabbed Punk's hip, holding him tight as he pressed back, his throbbing shaft rubbing between Punk's clothed cheeks. His voice came out in a harsh whisper. "Phil… don't do that." He felt Punk go still and then he all but leaped from the bed. John sat up slowly swinging his feet down to the floor. Punk looked at him, an embarrassed flush spreading across his face as he noticed John's erection.

"Sorry about that," he said.

John shrugged. "Don't worry about it." He continued to look at Punk until he lowered his eyes. At that, he got up and went over to him. He pulled Punk to him by his upper arms, ready to kiss him goodbye like always; softly, lips closed, no tongue. But this time he wanted more than that. He didn't know if it was Punk's dream or if he was just tired of waiting. Whatever it was, when their lips met he kissed Punk hard. He traced his tongue over Punk's bottom lip until he reached his lip ring. When he did he licked it slowly before he nipped Punk's lip sharply.

Punk drew back and looked at him in surprise. "John, what…"

John shook his head, not allowing Punk to finish. He grasped him by the back of the neck. "Kiss me back, Phil." John heard the dominance enter his voice. That hadn't been his intention, but he wouldn't take the words back. He wanted – no he _needed_ this from Phil right now. He tightened his fingers on his love's neck. "Kiss. Me. Back." The surprise and confusion on Punk's face melted away, replaced with desire … and submission. Punk's eyes drifted closed, his lips parting as he titled his head back. John made him wait for several heart beats. Then he slowly licked into Punk's mouth, curling his tongue against his. He slid his hands up under Punk's shirt rubbing the smooth muscles of his back. He kept up with the light stroking, refusing to deepen the kiss until Punk was pressing tight against him, chasing after his tongue. Only then did he kiss Punk rough and hard, sucking his tongue into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before letting him go. He bit at Punk's lip ring. Punk gasped, pushing his hips against his. John did it again, wanting that same reaction and he got it. He rubbed his hands along Punk's slender body until one grasped the back of his neck and the other palmed his ass. He held him tight against him just like that, thrusting his tongue into his lover's sweet mouth over and over until Punk was breathing fast and clutching at his back, whimpering almost desperately. John's shaft was throbbing again and he circled his hips, grinding slow and hard against Punk.

John finally broke their kiss. He pulled back slightly, watching Phil as his eyes slowly opened, his still parted lips swollen and wet from his kisses. _That_ was what he wanted. To see that beautiful look of surrender on his lover's face. John smoothed his palms down Punk's sides to lightly grasp his hips. He tucked his thumbs into Punk's shorts, sweeping them back and forth over the soft skin of his pelvis. His voice was low in the quiet room. "What are we doing, Phil? Why aren't we fully together again?"

Punk chewed his lip ring, an expression of indecision on his face. Finally he spoke, but it wasn't what John expected or wanted to hear.

"John … I don't know if I can be with you with BDSM. Can you be with me without it?"

* * *

John sat backstage with Randy and Cody before Sunday night's house show. They were talking. About what he didn't know or really care. He was only paying enough attention to respond when they directed a comment or question to him. Otherwise he tuned them out.

John was angry and confused. Punk didn't know if he wanted to be his submissive. He'd thought that the two of them talking about Punk's concerns were leading to them being together the way they were before. And after all that they'd discussed to hear Punk say that … He just didn't know what to do. Maybe Punk wouldn't ever be okay with submitting to him. Would he have to let go of his dream of owning Punk? The thought depressed him, especially after he'd experienced what it was like to have Punk as his own. But he couldn't and he _wouldn't_ force Punk to submit to him. So if Punk didn't want to be his submissive, there was nothing he could do. He heard someone calling his name and looked up. It was one of the staff.

"Excuse me, John. But I'm to tell you that there's been a change to-."

John cut the young man off. "Don't even bother finishing whatever you're about to say cuz I don't want to fucking hear it. Tell the writer's don't change anything else and don't you come back over here with anymore bullshit."

Everyone around him quieted. Cody looked at him like he'd grown a second head while Randy studied him with narrowed eyes. The gopher spoke first, stuttering in apprehension.

"I'm sorry John … umm… Mr. Cena, Sir. But I don't think I can say …tell… relay that message."

John took a deep breath. He was out of line and he knew it. He dug through his memory to come up with the staff member's name. "I apologize, Larry. You caught me at a bad moment." He forced a smile. "Just let creative know I'll be over to talk with them soon. Thanks." Larry nodded, practically bowing before he left.

Cody's voice was chock full of what the fuck. "Damn, John, what was that?"

Randy put his hand on Cody's arm. "Cody, go and get us some water from catering." The young brunette nodded, lightly touching Randy's fingers before getting up and leaving. Once he was gone Randy leaned back in his chair and looked at John. "What's up?"

John blew out a harsh breath. "Punk told me this morning that he doesn't know if he wants to be my submissive. And he wants to know if I can be with him without being in a D/s relationship."

"Can you?"

John looked at his friend. "Honestly? I don't know. I think I could try. I'm just not sure how long I would be successful in ignoring that part of me." He leaned his head back against the wall behind him. He was frustrated and confused and fucking _tired_. "I don't get why Punk is resisting. We've been talking through things. And he _always_ submits to me. It's only afterwards that he seems to regret it."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

John shook his head. "No. I don't think a Dom telling him how wonderful it is to submit would help."

Randy laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right about that." He sobered before he spoke again. "I'm sorry you guys are going through this. I know how badly you wanted him to be yours."

John didn't answer. He was starting to think Punk might not ever be his.

* * *

Punk had just sat down with a bottle of orange juice when Cody flopped into the chair across from him.

"Hey man. So John just bit the head off of one of the staff."

Punk's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "_John_ did that?"

"Yep. Why's your Dom so cranky? You not putting out?"

Punk nearly choked on his orange juice. "John isn't my Dom, Cody."

Cody tilted his head and looked at him, confusion evident in his pale blue eyes. "I thought you two were working things out?"

"We are. It's just … we might not go back to that part of our relationship." Cody stared at him for so long that Punk felt his ears turning red. Finally Cody shook his head.

"Punk, as long as you and John are together, he will always be your Dom."

* * *

Punk waited for John to open the door to his hotel room. He'd considered staying away tonight. After what Cody had told him he'd watched John and noticed that he was a little short with the people backstage that he normally was so friendly with. And after admitting to John that morning the doubts he still had, he felt like he need to think things through on his own. So spending the night apart for each of them to think about things might have been a good idea. But when it came down to it, he'd rather be with John than alone in his own hotel bed. He was just raising his hand to knock again when John opened the door.

"Sorry about that. I heard you knocking from the bathroom. I had to shower here since the water at the stadium was ice cold." He smiled slightly. "I wasn't in the mood for another cold shower."

John stepped back from the doorway and Punk went into the room. He didn't quite catch what John said. He was too busy looking at the pale skin of John's bare torso. Those hard muscles were only an arm's length away. All he had to do was reach out and touch. He wanted John so much. He wanted to be beneath him again. He wanted to be his again. And it was driving him crazy that for whatever reason he couldn't seem to either give in to John … or walk away from him. John noticed him staring and went to his bag on the bed.

"I was just about to grab a shirt."

"You don't have to put on a shirt." John turned back to look at him. "I mean … if you're more comfortable like that it's okay." Punk's heart raced as they stared at each other, nothing separating them but ten feet of air… and Punk's indecision. He shouldn't have said that. He didn't know what he wanted yet so he shouldn't be encouraging anything physical between them. John took a step towards him and Punk backpedaled quickly. "Although I guess you're probably cold. Maybe you should wear a shirt." John's face seemed to freeze, before he abruptly turned away from him and grabbed a tee, roughly yanking it over his head. He dropped his bag on the floor but stayed facing the bed, his head lowered.

"Come and sit down, Phil."

Punk walked over to him slowly. John seemed to be mad. He'd have to be a complete idiot not to know it was because of what had just passed between them. Clearly John was frustrated and cranky like Cody had said. He settled himself on the bed, John sitting next to him. John laced his fingers through his.

"Do you want to talk tonight?"

Punk looked into John's blue eyes, noting the lines of tension around them. He needed to decide what he wanted. He knew he wanted to be with John. He knew he loved how it felt to submit to John. But he just couldn't fucking bring himself to say, 'Yes. You are my Master.' And that was just something he was going to have to work through on his own. He shook his head in answer to John's question. "Can we just hang out tonight?" A muscle ticked in John's jaw, but he nodded in agreement. Punk scooted down and laid his head in John's lap. The hard muscle of John's thigh was strong and warm against his cheek. And John smelled good, the scent of his body-wash very familiar to Punk. He closed his eyes, thinking how good it would feel to have nothing between him and John's smooth skin.

John stared blankly at the TV. He'd known from the moment he laid eyes on Punk that it would be a challenge to win him. He just hadn't realized how much of a strain it would be to have him, lose him, and then be in this fuzzy and confusing no-man's land with him. They didn't say I love you anymore. They weren't together physically. They didn't spend any time together or even talk unless they were on the same travel schedule. And he was tired of it. He wanted things to be the way they were and he fucking wanted it now. He was trying his best not to show his impatience to Punk, but after what he'd said that morning he wanted to know. Was Punk his, or not?

Punk's head moved in his lap, his face rubbing across his shaft and he grit his teeth. He didn't know if he could deal with another night of laying there aroused while Punk slept on peaceful and oblivious. He started to move Punk off of him, but as he looked down and saw him so relaxed he felt a wave of emotion for the sleeping man and let him stay where he was. And he stuck by that decision … for all of two minutes. Because Punk kept rubbing his cheek softly against the growing bulge in his sweat pants, back and forth, his warm breath seeping through the cotton and heating his shaft. He couldn't take it. He shook Punk's shoulder lightly. "Phil, baby. You need to wake up."

"I'm not asleep."

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** Short (and frustrating to write!) filler chapter. More drama and _other things_ to come soon. But I've got derby stuff this weekend and I'm back to skating three days a week so it might be a bit before I get there. My apologies!


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with the WWE. If I were I'd be so FIRED for writing this smut about Cena & Punk

**Warning**: Cursing & gay-lovin' smut

**A/N:** Thank you all for all your reviews, favorites, and follows for SC&L. 101 followers! Awesome! I wish I could give you all a pack of Twizzlers or Life Savers Gummies (my writing fuel). And thank you for your patience & understanding on my updating. =)

* * *

John's heart pounded and his mouth went dry. Punk wasn't asleep. Then what was he doing? He asked his question out loud. "What are you doing, Phil?"

Punk turned his head and brushed his lips across his shaft. "I was thinking that I could repay you for what you did for me the other night." He brushed his lips over him again. "Since you didn't get to come."

John shifted his hips in an attempt to get away from Punk's teasing mouth. "I took care of that myself." He made a hoarse attempt at a laugh. "Just me and my left hand." Punk rolled so that he was between his legs and he automatically made room for him.

"But that's not what you really wanted, is it?"

"No. But that's what we agreed."

Punk lowered his lashes. "Yeah, but … I want to taste you John."

John cleared his throat, shifting his hips again. He was unbelievably hard and desperate to take Punk up on his offer. But he hadn't said anything about what he'd decided, which meant they were still on their no sex ban. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You know I won't want to stop with just that, Phil."

Punk trailed a finger down his shaft. "But we used to stop. Before. Why can't we this time?"

John swallowed hard. Before he'd been able to stop, but that was before he knew the mind blowing pleasure of burying himself deep inside his lover. But fuck. How was he supposed to refuse Punk's offer when he wanted it so bad? He didn't say anything because his brain couldn't think of an argument to deny what his body wanted. Punk must have taken his silence for agreement because he curled his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down. And John let him. It was almost embarrassing how hard he was. His shaft stretched up his belly, the head swollen and dark, already slick with pre-cum, the vein underneath standing out strong and prominent.

Punk looked down at his cock and then back up at him. He held their eye contact as he leaned forward, his tongue coming out to slowly lick across his cock head. John inhaled sharply and pressed back against the headboard. Just that one lick and he was ready to lose it. "Phil …"

Punk didn't say anything he just wrapped his hand around his shaft and sucked him down. John cried out in pleasure. It had been so long since he'd felt anything besides the touch of his own hand. And his hand definitely didn't compare to the delicious wet heat of Punk's mouth sliding up and down his cock. Punk moaned, sending vibrations tingling up and down his shaft. John fisted his hands in the comforter. He wanted to touch Punk, to slide his fingers into his hair and hold him still so that he could thrust up into his sweet mouth. But he didn't. Punk wanted him to be with him without taking control. So he would try. He let Punk suck him as he wanted, keeping his mouth shut and not giving a single order. And he kept his hips still. But soon his belly was clenching tight and he knew he'd be coming soon. He tried to get Punk to stop, unsure if his lover wanted him to release into his mouth.

"Phil, that's enough." Punk ignored him and kept going, moving his mouth even faster. John groaned, gripping the comforter tighter as he strained not to move. "Phil … no more. I'm close." Punk dug his fingers into John's thigh and continued. John drew that leg up and Punk wrapped an arm around his thigh, crowding in even closer against him. John couldn't tear his eyes off of him. His reddened lips were stretched wide around his cock, the silver lip ring glinting in the low light. And the sounds he made were driving him crazy. The wet sounds of his sucking. The laps of his tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock head. The moans that made it seem as though Punk loved what he was doing. The sounds, the way it felt, all of it combined was just too much. His balls were tight and his cock was throbbing. John couldn't hold back any longer. Just before he erupted he tried one last time to get Punk to stop. "I'm about to come baby. You need to st-." He cut off with a shout as Punk squeezed his sac and rapidly tongued his slit. His orgasm shot up his shaft into the welcoming mouth of his lover, sending waves of breath stealing pleasure coursing through his body. John gripped Punk's shoulder, his body shaking as he kept coming, his hips thrusting up against his will. But Punk didn't complain. His lover drank him down, not letting up until the tension in his body eased and he collapsed back against the headboard. Punk slowly slid his mouth up his shaft one last time before he finally released him.

John's body was relaxed but he was still breathing hard. He looked down at Punk and saw him watching him. They stared at each other, the desire on Punk's face plain to see. John's pulse was pounding as he tried to convince himself that he could stop from taking this any further. But then Punk reached for him.

"John …"

That was all it took. John grabbed Punk by the upper arms and pulled him up so that he was straddling his lap. He smashed their lips together in a frantic kiss. He sucked at Punk's bottom lip. "I can taste my cock on your lips." He licked into Punk's mouth. "And my cum on your tongue." Punk moaned and pushed his hips against him.

"You taste good, John."

John quickly rolled Punk underneath him, kissing him deep and hard. Fuck waiting. He wanted Punk now. He roughly pushed Punk's shirt up his chest, his head and his body focused on nothing but getting inside his lover. Still, John tried to let Punk know they didn't have to do this. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop Phil." But he ground his rapidly hardening shaft against Punk's as he spoke. And Punk just raised his arms to help him get the shirt off. John hurriedly kissed his way down his chest and stomach until he came to his shorts. He started tugging them down. He tried again, his words coming out in a desperate whisper against the soft skin of Punk's belly. "Tell me to stop, baby." But Punk lifted his hips so that he could slide the shorts down his long legs. John looked at Punk, naked beneath him. He was as beautiful as ever and being without him had been torture. But no more. Punk was there with him now.

He moved down Punk's body, gripping his thigh and pushing it up. He sucked kisses along that smooth flesh until he met the crease where his thigh ended. He traded kisses for long laps of his tongue, licking across Punk's lightly muscled ass. "Phil …" He reached his sweet pucker, lightly teasing it with the tip of his tongue. "Tell me to stop and I will." But Punk only moaned and pushed his hips forward. John tightened his grip on Punk's thigh and speared his tongue inside him.

Punk gasped. John's hot breath against his skin and his tongue thrusting inside him felt so good there was no way he would tell him to stop. Punk grasped his own shaft and stroked. But with a low growl John knocked his hand away. He felt the loss of John's mouth for a moment, just long enough for him to lick up his shaft, getting it wet. Then he wrapped his big fist around him, pumping smoothly. He returned to what he was doing before, licking deep into him over and over again. Punk lifted the leg that John wasn't holding and wrapped it around his shoulders. He wanted to keep John close against him, making him feel this way forever. But just then John's tongue withdrew and he sat up protesting. Then he felt one of John's thick fingers pushing inside him. He shuddered, pushing his hips down to capture more of it. John pushed another finger in and Punk fell back on the bed, crying out John's name. He couldn't stop his body's writhing as John twisted his fingers deep inside him. He couldn't stop his whispered pleas as he clawed at John's shoulders trying to pull him up. But John was immovable. He had to lay there and take it as those fingers pressed against his spot and that hard hand continued to pump his cock making his whole body spark with pleasure. How had he managed to stay away from John and the way he made him feel?

John had reached the end of his control. Punk's pleas and squirming fed his need to be inside of his lover. He rose back up over Punk, fitting the head of his cock to Punk's entrance, ready to push himself inside. But then he forced himself to slowdown. To stop and _think_. Breathing hard he asked, "Phil, do you want this?" Punk nodded with his eyes closed. But that wasn't enough for John. He needed to make sure that this was what Punk wanted.

"Phil, open your eyes and look at me." He waited as Punk's eyes drifted open. "I need to hear you say that you want this."

Punk licked his lips and nodded again. "Yes. I want this. I want you."

John leaned down and kissed his lover. "I want you too." He started to push inside, but even though he'd prepared him, Punk was tight. He pulled back and spit into his hand using it to get his cock wet. It was crude and he didn't normally like to do that. But there was no fucking way he was getting off of that bed to search out lube. Again he started to enter Punk, going slow, ignoring the urge to just push forward until every inch of his cock was gloved by Punk's snug channel. He blew out a harsh breath as he inched in, damn near shaking with the strain not to hurt his lover.

Punk rubbed his palms down his chest. "You won't hurt me, John."

John kissed his lover, hoping to distract him from any pain as he pulled back and then thrust past that first ring of muscle. When he was all the way in they both cried out. John held still for a moment, breathing hard, just savoring the feeling of being inside his lover again. Punk started moving restlessly beneath him, his hands roughly stroking his back.

"John, please. Move now."

John started to move. Slow. Deep. "Is this okay, baby?" Punk nodded and John smoothed his hand up Punk's tattooed arm, stretching it over his head. Punk brought his other arm up and John started to wrap his hand around his wrists. But then he remembered what Punk had asked him. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his hand back down, caressing his thigh instead. He gently lifted Punk's leg, urging him with a whisper to wrap it around his waist. The air was filled with soft curses, heavy breathing, and the creaking of the bed as he rode his lover, sliding deep inside him again and again. Punk's hips rose to meet every one of his thrusts. John lowered himself until their sweaty bodies were pressed tight together. He buried his face in Punk's neck as he kept thrusting slow and easy. Punk squeezed his inner muscles and John groaned. "You feel so good, baby." The heat. The tightness. He wasn't going to last. Already he could feel his muscles clenching, his shaft starting to pulse with the urge to come. "I'm sorry, Phil. I don't want this to end but it feels so goddamn good to be inside you again." Punk pushed his hips up digging his fingers into his back. Punk's breath washed over his shoulders as he spoke in between moans and cries of pleasure.

"That's okay. I'm close too."

John sped up his thrusts slightly making sure to hit Punk's spot so that he felt as much pleasure as he did. He reached between them and grasped his shaft, stroking in time to his thrusts. He felt those velvety walls start to clench on his cock spurring on his need to come. He licked Punk's sweaty neck. "Can I come inside you, Phil?"

"Yes. Wanna feel you coming inside me, Sir." Punk gasped and froze.

John pushed himself up and looked at Punk. From that gasp, he wasn't surprised to see panic crawling across his face. John dropped a slow kiss on his lover's mouth and reassured him. "Don't worry about that. Just stay with me, baby." John didn't mention it again and after a moment Punk started to relax. John kept pumping and stroking Punk, squeezing him hard making _sure_ that Punk stayed in the moment. And it worked. Soon Punk was gasping again, but this time in pleasure. He started moving with him, his hips rising faster and faster until he was moaning out his orgasm, his cock throbbing and pulsing in John's fist.

John tried to maintain his slow pace but Punk' walls were squeezing him and it felt so good and finally he just let go, letting his hips jerk tight and fast against his lover's as his cock pulsed with his release. He kissed Punk as he came, groaning into his mouth, breathing in the moan Punk gave him in return. As the pulsing pleasure subsided he had to let Punk knew how he felt. "I love you, Phil," he whispered against his lips. Punk was still moaning and breathing hard, but he whispered back, "I love you, too."

John rolled to Punk's side and went to pull him up against him. But Punk put his hand on his chest and stopped him.

"I'm sort of a mess here."

John didn't care about that. It crossed his mind that Punk never used to either but he was still enjoying what they'd just shared too much to really focus on that. He scooted closer to Punk. "That's alright. But we can take a shower together if you want."

Punk shook his head. "No. I just need a towel."

John rose up on one elbow finally noting that Punk seemed to be withdrawing from him. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Just … will you get me a towel?"

John wasn't sure about Punk's mood. But he got up and drew on his boxers before he went into the bathroom to get him a warm wet towel. He took the time to clean himself up and he couldn't help but smile thinking that they were together again. When he came back out Punk was already sitting up in bed, his shorts and shoes on and his t-shirt in hand. He'd obviously used the sheet to clean up because it was balled up and thrown on the floor. John stopped short. "Are you leaving?" Punk didn't look at him as he pulled his shirt on over his head.

"Yeah, I should get back to my room."

John carelessly dropped the wet towel on the floor and went over to him. "You've slept with me nearly every night for a week. Why are you leaving now?"

"Because we shouldn't have done that," Punk said, standing and gesturing at the bed. "And I'm sorry. That was my fault."

John just managed to keep from cursing out loud in frustration. Damnit, he'd asked if that was what Punk wanted! He couldn't take much more of Punk's indecision. "First of all, don't ever apologize for us being together. But why do you even feel like you need to? I wanted you and you said that you wanted me. So where is the problem?"

"Because I told you John! I don't know if I can be with you the way you want me to be!"

John grabbed Punk and pulled him up against him. "Fine! We don't have to be together like that. I want you more than I want anything. _Including_ being a Dom. So if that's what it takes to get you back I will trash every toy and restraint I own. I'll tear down the play room. I'll throw out your collars-."

"No!" Punk protested, curling his fingers against his chest.

John stopped and studied the man in front of him. "You don't want me to throw your collars away? Why not?"

Punk took a deep breath. "I just meant that I don't want you to give up something that's a part of you. That's all. You think I don't know that you were holding back tonight?"

"Now that's not fair, Phil. You asked me if I could be with you without dominating you. And I tried. I'd be willing to keep trying if that's what you want." John studied Punk again. "But I don't think that is what you want. Going by your slip, I wasn't the only one holding back."

Punk looked away from him. "That _was_ a slip. But just from habit."

"Really? I heard you last night, Phil."

Punk met his eyes again. "What?"

"I heard you, while you were dreaming." John pulled Punk even closer against him. "You were submitting to me in your dream, baby. Asking me, asking _your Dom_ for permission to come." He brushed his lips against Punk's. "And God you have no idea how bad I wanted to wake you up and give you that permission … after I worked you up just as much as you were in your dream."

Punk flushed hot both with embarrassment and desire. He had vague memories of that dream, but hadn't realized that he'd said anything out loud. Or that John had been awake to hear him. Before he knew it his body was relaxing against John's, his hands smoothing over his broad chest. He sucked his lip ring as he looked into John's deep blue eyes. Eyes that watched him with so much love and desire. In that moment he knew that he was going to be with John again. He just needed a little more time to decide how. "Okay, John I admit it. I want to be with you. And if you're willing to consider being with me without being in a D/s relationship, then I'm willing to consider being with you as your sub again. But let me think. Just give me until tomorrow night."

John smiled, his happiness at Punk's statement evident. He brushed another kiss across his lips. "I can do that." He started walking him backwards. "Now come back to bed."

Punk laughed. "No, John. If I'm going to think I need to do it without you distracting me." John's lips nuzzled his neck and his hand slid into his shorts to cup his ass.

"I won't distract you." His hand slid around to his front to teasingly brush low on his belly. "Well I might just a little bit."

Punk moaned softly and before his next breath, John's lips were on his. It was getting harder to resist as John kissed him, the slow licks of his tongue almost making him forget why he was leaving. "John… I mean it … I need to be alone." Punk felt the vibration of John's protesting growl against his chest, but he let him go.

"Okay." Then as Punk tried to walk away John pulled him back by his t-shirt. "Have lunch with me tomorrow at the arena?"

Punk laughed again. "You don't give up do you?"

"In general? No. When it comes to you? Never."

Hearing that Punk had to turn back and give John a deep kiss of his own. He ended it quickly and dodging John's hands he walked across the room.

"Tease," John said.

Punk turned back, a secret smile playing on his lips. "Sometimes." Then he was out the door.

* * *

Punk finished his martial arts workout in the ring. He felt good and loose as he hopped down to the floor. His head was also clear because he'd made his decision. No more confusion. No more going back and forth with John, afraid to commit because he didn't know what he wanted. He asked one of the road crew for the time. The guy looked at his watch and answered, "Close to noon." Punk thanked him and headed up the ramp with a smile on his face. It was time to meet John for lunch. He'd made his decision, but he hadn't decided if he was going to tell John now or wait until tonight. He figured he'd just play it by ear.

John sat at a table with his food waiting on Punk. He was pleased they'd talked last night and glad that Punk was ready to commit to them being together. And Punk would let him know tonight what he'd decided on if they resumed their Dom/sub relationship or not. He knew which he'd prefer – but he'd take Punk no matter what he decided. He sat up straight as Punk came backstage, smirking as he passed him. John had to smile. He loved that smart ass so much. After a few minutes, Punk came back with his food and sat down. They talked about what they had planned for the show tonight as they ate. When John was done he pushed his empty plate aside and sipped his water as he waited for Punk to finish.

"So will you be over tonight right after the show?" Punk looked down at his plate. John noticed the smile tugging at his lips before he looked at him from beneath his lashes.

"Yes, Sir."

John sucked in a breath, afraid to believe what he'd just heard. "Is that your answer?"

Punk looked him directly in the eye. "Yes, Sir."

John's heart was pounding. So many emotions raced through him at that moment. Joy. Pleasure. Relief. Love. He wanted to pull his sub to him and kiss him until he couldn't think of anything but submitting to him. But he couldn't because they were surrounded by people. So instead he trailed his fingers over the red ink on the back of his hand. "And you're telling me this now?"

Punk's eyes glinted with mischief. "Well I didn't think you'd want to wait to know my answer."

John laced his fingers through his lovers. "I didn't. And I don't want to wait to celebrate your answer either."

Punk smirked at him again. "That's too bad. We've got a long night ahead of us before we can leave and do that."

John knew he was going too far but he couldn't help it. He scooted his chair closer to Punk and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "You little tease."

Punk turned to look at him. Their lips were only inches apart as he sucked that sexy piece of metal into his mouth. "Maybe. What are you going to do about it John-Boy?"

"Hmmm… I think I'm going to take you into the nearest room with a locked door and-." The sound of a throat clearing kept him from finishing his sentence. He reluctantly pulled his attention from Punk to look up and see Vince standing there. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair. "Hey, Vince. What's up?"

Vince looked like he was trying not to laugh. "So things still over between you two?"

John heard Punk mutter, "Funny," under his breath. "We've managed to work things out actually. So again. What's up Vince?"

Vince continued on in his gruff voice. "Actually I'm glad I caught you two together. The WWE Universe is really into Punk as heel. John, I'll admit it. You were right to have Punk retain at RAW 1000. Glad you guys pitched that to me."

John froze at Vince's words. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! He knew without even turning to look at him that Punk would be furious at what McMahon had just revealed.

"What did you just say?"

By the look on Vince's face he knew he'd just said something he shouldn't have but he plowed on anyway. "Your idea for you to keep the belt was a good one. Much better than having John hold the belt for the build up to Rock versus Cena two. Goddamn creative – they wouldn't know a good idea if it hit them in the-."

Punk's chair went screeching back as he jumped up. "You lying piece of shit!"

John looked up to see Punk looking down at him with an expression of absolute fury on his face. He stood up too just in case Punk was about to knee him in the jaw. "Phil, listen."

Punk kicked John's chair out of the way and stepped up in his face. "No you listen! I fucking told you to let creative decide what happened to my title reign. You had no goddamn right to interfere! I told you to stay out of it!"

"I did! I didn't say anything after we talked but I'd already had that conversation with Vince. I couldn't go back and tell him I changed my mind."

"That's bullshit. You had no issue sticking your fucking nose in where it didn't belong in the first place. It wouldn't have been any problem for you to go running back and use all your magical Super Cena influence to change his mind again."

"Phil, I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you got the title reign that you deserved."

Punk was so pissed off he lost it and shoved John hard in the chest. "I don't need you to make sure I get anything! You think I'm talking out my ass when I say I'm the best on the mic and the best in that ring? I'm better than you'll ever be with your childish promos and your shitty attempt at wrestling." Punk knew he'd probably gone too far with that comment but he didn't care. He couldn't believe what John had done! He turned his back on John and started walking away. "Just stay the fuck away from me."

"Phil, wait!"

Punk spun back around. "No! You don't get to call me Phil. Only people I _trust_ and _respect_ get to call me that."

John went after Punk anyway. There was something else he'd done behind Punk's back and he might as well get it out now. "Punk. Please just wait for a second."

Punk turned back around his fists clenched in anger. "What?"

"Back when we fought over you kissing AJ … I asked Stephanie to end your program with her." John hadn't thought that Punk could get any angrier. But going by the angry red flush creeping across his face, Punk was about to explode. He spoke fast wanting to get the rest of it out while he still could. "I only did it because-."

"Shut up! Just fucking shut up! I don't want to hear your reasons why you did it. Because let's be honest, John. They were for your own selfish purposes because your possessive ass wanted to make sure you wouldn't have any competition." Punk looked at him with a sneer on his face. "Sneaking around behind your boyfriend's back making secret arrangements? Way to prove you're _in control_ and you trust your lover."

"Punk please just let me explain."

"Forget it. You can keep your explanations and your fucking collar. Cuz I don't want either of 'em." He angrily walked off and didn't look back once.

John stood there in disbelief. In all the years he'd known Punk he'd never seen him so mad. He figured it was pretty safe to say that they were over. He turned around and saw McMahon still standing there.

"Damnit Vince! You just had to come over here and say that?"

Vince's brown eyes narrowed. "Don't you blame that on me, Cena. I assumed you both were on board with that plan when I found out you two were together. I didn't know you were doing it as a gift for your hot headed little boyfriend."

John angrily smacked his plate off the table. "Well he's not my boyfriend now." He threw himself into his chair. "But you're right. You're not to blame for any of this. All of this was my own dumb fault." John sat there unable to believe his stupidity. He'd been so close. Punk had given him his answer and it had been what he wanted to hear. But now … now they were further apart than they'd ever been before.

Vince cleared his throat. "John I hate to bring this up but you two have a segment tonight."

He looked up at his boss. "We cleared everything up earlier and we're both professionals. It'll go off with no problem."

* * *

"Cut it off."

"What?"

You heard me. Get your clippers out and shave it off. All of it."

Sally looked at him in surprise. "You're sure?"

Punk was still furious. Fucking John and his goddamn interference. It was _his_ career! John had no right to use his influence one way or another. Piper had been right all those weeks ago. He should have listened. He was so mad his stomach churned and he couldn't relax, his muscles grabbing down hard onto his bones. He needed to do something to take the edge off. "Yes I'm sure."

She grabbed the clippers and buzzed them on. "Alright, just tell me how low you want it."

* * *

Punk was in the steel cage with Lawler. His anger had yet to subside and he knew it was coming through in his match. But he didn't give a shit. He just used his frenetic energy to push his character's heel rage. Lawler came down on his forehead hard and as he got back to his feet he felt blood running down his face. Perfect, he was bleeding the hard way. He swiped the blood across his wrist tape, laughing almost maniacally. Perfect little John-Boy would have had ten refs in here moping him up with towels. But not him. He ignored Robinson asking him if he wanted to stop the match and continued on. Because that's what he did. He didn't need John. He was the Best in the World. And he was proving it right now with the story he was telling with Lawler.

After Punk beat Lawler he went back into the cage. He knew John would be coming out to stop him from abusing Jerry soon. Punk grabbed Lawler in a chokehold, slamming his forearm across his chest again and again, demanding that the King acknowledge that he was the Best in the World. John's music hit as planned and he came running out in his stupid ass green shirt. They made eye contact for a brief moment as John shouted for the ring techs to raise the cage. Punk didn't even try to disguise the hatred on his face. He had no problem letting John know how he really felt and the WWE Universe would just take it as part of his character.

The cage started going up. Punk was supposed to wait there for John and have a brief promo followed by a short scuffle. But right now he didn't trust what would come out of his mouth if he talked to John. So he grabbed his title and rolled out of the ring, blowing off their segment. Fuck John Cena.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: Did you guess that Saving Abel's _Addicted_ was the repeat song for this chapter? Five points to your House. Are you planning to throw rotten fruit at me for them fighting again? Five points _**from**_ your house! Lol. John's interference had to come out sooner or later. ;-) As always I hope to see your comments, critiques, and suggestions. I welcome them all - good and bad.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with the WWE and I'm not making any money from this fic. But Vince, if you like what you see here and want to add a little spice to your story lines, give me a call.

**Warning**: Cursing & m/m sexual situations

**A/N**: Jeepers! How did so much time manage to get by me since my last update? I apologize, but with derby in full swing it doesn't leave time for much else. Plus, I'm a sloooow writer, aka easily distracted by DSW dot com and Twitter. But I'm on spring break right now so I'll _try_ to post two more chapters before I go back to work. =)

* * *

Punk slouched on his couch. The TV was tuned into a Cubs game but he wasn't watching it. Instead, he glared at the offensive hunk of leather, gold, and diamonds tossed on his living room floor. He wished it wasn't here. Wished he didn't have to carry that ugly ass belt around to live events and publicity stops. It wasn't his anymore. That title hadn't truly belonged to him since July 23rd. He should have lost it to John that night. Actually it hadn't been his even before that. Ever since John had made his little deal with Vince, his title reign had become meaningless. He was done with John. Done with being his submissive, his lover, his anything. John clearly didn't respect him and since that was the case John would have to find somebody else to play his kinky games with. He couldn't believe that John had lied to him and manipulated things behind his back. Punk snorted in disgust. How ironic that he was in the middle of a character arc where he was demanding respect. Turns out the person who should have respected him the most was the one he should have been shouting 'respect!' at all along.

He was distracted from his righteous anger when the doorbell rang. He looked at the front door, the glare still on his face. If it was another fucking delivery man with another fucking bouquet of flowers he was going to take the stupid flowers and bash the delivery guy over the head with them. _Jesus_! Did John think he was a chic crying because he'd forgotten their anniversary? Punk got up and snatched the door open. "What?!" He stopped as he saw his friend standing there. "Oh. What do you want, Colt?"

"Well, hello to you too."

Punk didn't move from the doorway. "Now's not a good time, Colt."

Colt just grinned. "Yeah, I figured. But…" He pushed forward and shouldered his way into the entryway. "You've been avoiding me."

Punk rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let his friend knock him aside. He was here now, so he might as well deal with it. He shut the door and headed back over to the couch, leaving Colt standing there.

"Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?"

Punk didn't even look back. "You invited yourself in here, you can get your own damn drink."

"Oooh, somebody's feeling salty today."

Colt's footsteps faded as he went into the kitchen. After a few minutes he came into the living room, twisting the cap off of a bottle of Snapple. He stopped short when he saw the title belt on the floor.

"What's that all about? Trying out new poses for another Twitter pic of your championship?"

"It's not _my_ championship."

Colt dropped down into the armchair across from him. "What do you mean it's not yours?"

Punk hadn't planned to go into it, but he wanted to get this off his chest. He wanted to tell someone what an asshole John had been and he knew that Colt would understand. "It's not mine because John told Vince that he wanted me to keep it at RAW 1000 when he cashed in his briefcase."

Colt took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, so? That doesn't mean it's not yours."

Punk looked at his friend with a frown. "Did you hear what I said? John interfered in my career."

Colt took another sip, his face perfectly calm. "And this has you pouting because…"

Punk's eyes widened in surprise at Colt's cluelessness. "Are you fucking kidding me? John interfered in my career! He had no right to do that. It's like I didn't even deserve to be champion from July on. That's why that title isn't mine."

Colt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "So let me get this straight. You're pissed because your boyfriend –."

"He's not my boyfriend anymore." Colt closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath. Punk only caught, "dumber than I thought," before he opened his eyes and spoke out loud again.

"You're pissed because your _ex_-boyfriend cared enough about you to want to see you stay on top of the WWE food chain and used his influence to make sure that happened."

Punk didn't care how his friend worded it, John had still been in the wrong. "I didn't need him to use his influence. I'll earn everything I have in that company on my own. All they need to do is look at how I produce in that ring to decide if they want me to be their champion or not."

Colt laughed. "Now _you're_ kidding , right? This is the WWE we're talking about, the fiefdom of Vincent K. McMahon. A tyrant not known for his ability to make the smartest choices. And you wanted to trust that he and his creative yes men were going to make the right decision based on your performance?" Colt shook his head. "Shit, I need to call John and tell him thank you from me. I'm not sad that I haven't had to see him wearing that non-spinning spinner belt on top of his latest t-shirt. And if he hadn't _interfered_, that's probably what I would have been looking at for the past few weeks."

Punk cut his eyes at Colt. "Don't even try to make it seem like John had good reason to do what he did."

"Don't _you_ keep being so damn mule-headed," Colt said as he pointed at him with his bottle of Snapple. "John did what he did because he cares for you. And hopefully because he was smart enough to know that was the best decision for the business. Besides, if the company didn't feel that you were capable of carrying the belt and wasn't already considering having you retain, then they wouldn't have gone for John's suggestion. If you'd get over yourself for two fucking seconds, you'd see that."

Punk crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to argue this with Colt anymore. He knew once his friend got something in his head he stuck with it. But he knew what would make his friend understand his anger. "Fine. Let's forget about John sticking his nose in on my title reign. You wanna know what else he did? He put a call in to Stephanie and told her to end my storyline with AJ. Now explain how _that_ was good for business."

Colt shrugged. "I can't."

"Exactly! Can you believe that motherfu-."

Colt cut him off. "I can't explain how it was good for business, but I know why he did it."

Punk snorted. "Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. It was jealousy!"

Colt gave him a long look before he spoke again. "I'm going to give you a list. And I want you to listen carefully to this list until you see my point. Russell Crowe and Meg Ryan, Stephanie McMahon and Trips, Tom Cruise and Penolope Cruze, Brad and Angelina, the Twilight girl and that director dude." Colt stopped. "Wow, I really thought you'd get it when I got to Brangelina."

Punk spoke from between clenched teeth. "I see your goddamn point."

"Then why are you still pissed?"

"Because he should have trusted me."

Colt shrugged again. "Love makes you do the wacky."

"Can you not quote Buffy at me right now? If John wants me to be with him the way he wants me to be I need to be able to trust him."

A confused frown crossed Colt's forehead. "What?"

"Nothing. Just … he shouldn't have lied to me about the title or about the AJ storyline."

"So Cena isn't perfect. Tough shit. I'm pretty sure you aren't either."

Punk narrowed his eyes. "If you tell me that there is only one perfect being …"

Colt slapped his hand over his heart, his eyes wide in mock affront. "I would never! Besides, you little heathen, you and I both know there was only one perfect man. And right now he's slapping his gum across the big squared circle in the sky."

Punk had to laugh at Colt's Mr. Perfect reference.

"Hey! I knew I could turn that frown upside down!"

Punk rolled his eyes. "Don't celebrate too much. You might have made me laugh, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive John."

Colt slumped back in his chair. "Oy vey, you are a stubborn motherfucker!"

* * *

John sat in his hotel room, his laptop open and his phone in his hand. He was debating between trying to call Punk again, or sending him another bouquet of flowers. He was filled with regret as he sat there in a room he'd never expected to be in. He'd hoped that on this stop to Chicago, Punk's city, that he would be staying in his lover's apartment. A place that so far he hadn't been invited to. But they were apart now because of his stupidity so he was staying in yet another generic hotel room. Had he been wrong in the calls he'd made regarding his cash-in and the AJ storyline? Maybe, maybe not. Had he been wrong in keeping what he'd done from Punk? One hundred percent yes. He'd fucked up in keeping what he'd done from his proud lover. And going by the hate filled look Punk had given him as the cage was going up on his match with Lawler, Punk was unlikely to forgive him any time soon.

As John thought of that look, he remembered how he'd stood there for a moment just staring at Punk, almost forgetting the role he was supposed to be playing. He couldn't believe how angry he'd been and all he'd wanted to do was make Punk listen to his apology. But they'd been on live TV, so he'd done his job. He'd been stunned when Punk left the ring without finishing the segment to its planned conclusion. Punk wasn't one to slack off in his performance. But after that he hadn't been surprised when he made it back stage and found him already gone. John sighed and closed his laptop and put his phone away. His phone calls to Punk immediately rolled into voicemail so John knew that Punk was ignoring him. And if his flowers were having any effect on Punk's anger he would have known about it by now. It was probably dumb of him to send flowers, but in his knee-jerk reaction to apologize it was the first thing that came to mind. He'd try to get Punk to talk to him at the arena tonight and if that didn't work he'd figure out what to do from there.

* * *

The air backstage was stale and slightly chilly as he waited for Punk. Del Rio was there too but he didn't pay him any attention. They were about to rehearse their segment for RAW that night, one that Punk wouldn't be able to walk away from. Punk came around the corner and John did a double take at who he was with. Punk noticed his surprise and raised his chin, practically looking down his nose at him.

"That's right, Cena. I'm doing things the way _I_ want to. _I'm_ the one in charge of my career and where my character goes. So Paul is going to be working with me now."

"It was never my intention to change where your career went," John said quietly.

Punk just glared at him. "Save it, Cena. I'm not interested. Let's just get this over with."

Cena stepped over to the crate he planned to AA del Rio on top of. The three of them talked through everything. The only thing they really needed to practice was Punk GTSing him onto the car to make sure they hit it right. One of the stage hands pulled the black car into place as John walked over to Punk.

"I'm sorry, Punk."

"I think what you really mean is you're sorry you got caught."

John shook his head. "No. I'm sorry for what I did. I only wanted to do what was best for us."

Punk continued to glare at him, his eyes bright with anger. "If I'd had any sense I would have listened to Piper and Kofi when they tried to warn me about you."

That was news to John. "What? What did they say?"

"Forget it. It doesn't matter what they said. Either way it wasn't your decision to make on what was best for us."

Punk held his hand out and John took it, even though he knew it was only for Punk to hoist him onto his shoulders, not because he wanted to hold his hand. Punk carried out the move and John crashed down onto the hood of the car as planned, rolling off onto the floor. Before he could get up he heard Punk say, "I'm done here." He sat up and watched Punk walk away. As he got to his feet he heard a throat clearing. Turning around he saw that Heyman was still standing there.

"Hey, Paul. Congrats on getting to work with Punk again. I know you must be looking forward to it."

Heyman looked at him with that penetrating stare, his hands clasped behind his back. "I am looking forward to it. It's been too long since I've worked with Phillip. Even so, I probably know him better than anybody in this company. For instance, I know that Phil is one to hold grudges."

John laughed ruefully. "Yeah, no kidding."

"But I also know that his love is just as intense as his anger and that he'll fight to keep the ones he loves with him. And that he expects them to do the same for him."

John paused. Was Heyman helping him? Offering him advice? "That's interesting to know."

"It is interesting, isn't it? Here's something else you might find interesting, John. Phillip is like anyone else. He needs to know that he can trust his … partner in order to fully …" Heyman tapped his finger on his chin. "What's the word I'm looking for? Oh yes, submit. He needs to know that he can trust his partner in _every_ way in order to fully _submit_ to a relationship."

John looked at Heyman in surprise, wondering if Punk had told him all the details of their relationship. "Did Punk tell you …?" He trailed off, not wanting to say anything and possibly embarrass Punk if Heyman didn't know.

Heyman smiled his angelic devil's smile. "Cena, Cena, Cena. I know everything that goes on in this company, whether I'm here or not."

John watched Heyman as he went to follow Punk. Well, damn. After Paul's advice, it looked like he was going to have to become a Heyman Guy too.

* * *

It was a week later. They were live and Punk was doing a great job on the mic. But tonight he was more on point than usual. They were in Montreal and John watched on the monitors as Punk cut his promo with the legendary Bret the Hitman Hart. Punk was focused, his energy almost that of a crazed zealot who truly believed that he was better than anyone else. He drew the eye like a magnet, managing to pull emotion from Bret, who had always been one to struggle on the mic, and struggled even more so now after his medical issues. He was just that good at what he did.

Punk still wasn't speaking to him, but John hadn't given up. And he didn't have any intentions of giving up either. Punk might be pissed at him, understandably so, but as far as he was concerned that didn't mean they were over. Punk's temper was explosive, something he'd known for years. He'd set it off by not coming clean before Vince's untimely reveal. Now he just needed to find a way to calm Punk down and get him to listen to his apology.

XX

"I think you should find a better mix of the old AJ and the new GM AJ. These suits just aren't you." Punk was backstage waiting to do his segment with AJ. Over the past couple of years he'd embraced his role as one of the locker room leaders. So he had no problem giving advice on technique or gimmick. In this case, the issue was only clothes, but it was still part of AJ's character.

AJ looked at him briefly and then quickly looked back at the monitor. "Thanks, Punk. I'll think about that."

Punk looked at her confused. She'd gone from flirting with him to acting like she was afraid to look at him. As she continued to focus on a screen that was blank since they were on commercial break, a thought crossed Punk's mind. "Hey, AJ. Did John say anything to you? About us?" The tiny brunette turned to him, her lips parted as though she were about to speak. Then she resumed staring at the monitor without saying a word. Punk didn't ask again. Her non-response was answer enough. His anger had started to cool, but now with yet more evidence of John's manipulative ways, it burned white-hot once again.

Punk's gaze was locked on John as he walked to the gorilla for his last segment of the night with him and Bret. He didn't notice any of the people standing around him. He just walked up to John and stopped right in front of him. John cut off his conversation and looked at him expectantly.

"Hey, Punk. You ready?"

"You're pathetic."

John immediately stiffened. "What?"

"I said, you're pathetic. I don't know exactly what you did, but the fact that you did anything to warn off AJ is fucking ridiculous." Punk saw John's face hardening with anger but he didn't care. "You're pathetic."

"Watch it, Punk. You're crossing a line."

Punk laughed harshly. "Oh, _I'm_ crossing a line? Funny cuz it seems like that's all you ever did was cross the line where we were concerned. Only you were too much of an insecure little pussy to even let me know that you'd done it."

John was furious but he held onto his anger. Punk had obviously heard something about his conversation with AJ, but now wasn't the time to go over it. Bret was out in the ring waiting for him and he needed to get out there. "Punk, if you want to talk about this we can meet up after the show."

"I don't need to talk to you about anything. I've said what I had to say. But let me repeat myself in case I wasn't clear the first time. You're pathetic and insecure."

John finally lost his temper. "_I'm_ pathetic? That's rich coming from a man who was too _insecure_ to accept who he was in a relationship. You got so scared at the way I made you feel that you ran away like a pussy instead of talking to me about it. And now that you've found out something that you don't like, you're sulking and again refusing to talk to me instead of working through things like a fucking man. Now _that's_ pathetic."

Punk's eyes widened, his face turning red with rage. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

John stepped up to Punk staring him down. "I think I'm talking to a man who is used to being in a relationship with people who bow and scrape to keep him happy. And when things get rough he drops them and moves on. But that's not how things are going to work with us, Punk."

"There is no us."

John laughed. "Keep telling yourself that. You wouldn't have come over here all pissed off if you didn't still feel something for me." John looked and saw a stage hand frantically waving at him as his music came on. Before he went through the curtain he left Punk with one last thought. "And don't even try to say it's only hate you feel. You love me and you're hurt at what I did. Be a man and accept that."

Punk watched as John's green shirt disappeared to the sound of mixed boos and cheers from the Montreal audience. John had some fucking nerve to call _him_ insecure and a pussy. He struggled to bring his anger under control so that he could go out there and cut his promo. As he took the mic that was handed to him he was outwardly calm, but underneath he was seething with fury. John needed to be knocked down a peg or two. Just before he raised the microphone to his mouth he heard someone call his name. He looked and saw Vince standing there, his face pale and worried.

"Punk, this night is already a goddamn nightmare. Don't let your argument with John carry over out there. Just do the promo and get your ass back here." Vince roughly ran his hand through his hair. "Fucking Montreal. I swear this city is cursed for me."

For once Punk didn't argue with Vince. They were all upset and worried. So he just nodded. He'd do his best to keep his anger under control and not veer off script.

They were all in the ring under the hot lights. Punk was talking, focused on Bret and working the crowd for their boos as he elevated himself higher than legends like Shawn Michaels and Steve Austin. But then Punk turned his attention back to him.

"I don't say these things from a place of insecurity and I apologize for your lack of self-confidence. But I say it because I am it!"

John's mouth twisted in a humorless smile. He could see that Punk was still pissed. He knew that statement was meant for him, not just as part of their storyline but from their argument a few minutes ago. That was fine with him because he was pretty damn furious himself. His turn to speak came and he went through his dialogue with more intensity than he had in a while, his anger at Punk bleeding through. Punk watched him, his jaw set firmly. John knew Punk could tell his anger was real. He caught the flickers of emotion on his face every time John made a personal dig at him about who he was. Punk wasn't the only one who could go off script.

They went through the rest of the segment, both of them getting more and more pissed off until John knocked the mic out of Punk's hand. He didn't want to hear anything else Punk had to say, scripted or otherwise. They stared each other down, John wishing they were in private so they could finish the argument they'd started. Because going by Punk's history, he knew Punk would be gone by the time he made his way backstage. And he was right. After he and Bret finished slapping hands with the fans and went back through the curtain, he looked around for Punk. Surprise, surprise he was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Night of Champions had finally arrived. He would be in the ring with Punk tonight. But first they had to get through the meeting with Vince and the rest of creative.

"Punk's reign is currently at 302 days. We haven't had anyone go as Champion for a whole calendar year in a very long time. That could be worth building up."

John watched as Vince adjusted his glasses and tapped his pen on his notepad. "Hmmm… but would that be more profitable than having John as WWE Champion? What do you think, John?"

John didn't look at Punk, but he felt his eyes on him. "I think both ideas have merit."

Punk snorted. "Way to be wishy-washy, teacher's pet."

John cut his eyes at Punk. "I wasn't finished. Both ideas have merit, _but_ unless you guys are really going to make something of the length of Punk's title reign, you might as well give the title back to me. We're in my hometown after all. The crowd will pop for that."

"That's true. We could really push having the hometown boy win. That'd get some good press," Vince said, sitting back in his chair.

One of the junior writers spoke up. "Yeah that'd be great! We could even make a new t-shirt for John for it!"

Punk made a sound of disgust. The writer glanced at him then looked away, flushing in embarrassment.

"You don't agree with this, Punk?"

"No, I don't. The one thing my title reign has brought to the WWE Championship is stability. Instead of passing the title around to any new flavor of the month, you've kept it on me creating a credible champion. Why wreck that now? People love records. The longer I go as Champion, the more the fans will get into it. They'll gleefully count each day on Twitter and Bleacher Report. And I'll make sure they know just how important it is. Alls I'll need is a microphone." He looked at the writer. "You can keep the t-shirt. Besides if you take the strap off me now, then my match at The Rumble with Rock is pointless. Unless you plan on having John-boy and Rocky fight it out there. And if you do that then we won't get to have Once in a Lifetime at Wrestlemania." He waited a beat. "Again."

John held back his smile as Vince took off his glasses and glared at Punk in annoyance at his last remark. Punk had a point.

"Damnit, Punk. Your smart ass comments almost make it impossible to hear you out." Vince waited a beat of his own. "Almost. I like the idea of a record-breaking title reign. You'd just better do what you do to hype it up." Vince looked at him. "You on board with this, John?"

John shrugged. "I'm not going to argue for argument's sake. What Punk says makes sense. It'll be good for the company and the build-up to the Rumble will be better if Punk retains tonight."

Vince rose from his chair. "Alright then it's settled."

Punk spoke up again. "Hold on. John's earlier inability to make a decision just gave me an idea for a Dusty finish. And since you're in a listening mood…"

Everybody looked at Punk but it was Vince who answered him. "Let's hear it."

* * *

The match had gone off brilliantly. He knew John had turned his ankle early on, but he kept going like a trooper and Punk had to admire that. As always they managed to put on a performance that was more than just a wrestling clinic. They had emotion in their match and Punk wasn't dumb enough to deny the fact that it was partially because of their connection outside the ring. But whatever, he didn't care. Putting on the best show was what mattered. And that's exactly what they'd done, all the way up to the Dusty finish with both of their shoulders down for the three count. It was a sneaky way for him to retain and he knew the WWE Universe would be discussing the controversy for days to come. Now he was backstage, sweaty and still breathing hard. He could head to the locker room and shower, but instead he waited. Waited for John. But only to congratulate him on their successful match out of respect. Nothing more. John finally came through the curtain and looked around. Punk knew that John was looking for him because as soon as those blue eyes landed on him John headed straight over.

"That was a great match tonight, Punk. Good job."

John extended his hand and Punk took it automatically, John's warm palm wrapping around his own. He shook once then tried to pull back, but John held on, his thumb stroking the back of his hand.

"Whenever we're together, it's always good."

Punk's heart rate sped up as he met John's gaze focused so intently on him. He knew John wasn't only referring to their match. But he wasn't going to go there with him. "Thanks. You too," he replied, the note of dismissal clear in his voice. He pulled his hand back again and was almost free. But John's fingers closed around his wrist. A shiver traced down his spine as John gave his wrist a quick yet firm squeeze.

"I'd like to see you tonight, Punk. Maybe we could go over the match…" John pulled him closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "Or see if we can figure out a way to top our previous times together."

Punk swallowed hard, fighting to ignore the desire that was rising in him at John's closeness, his thumb now stroking softly back and forth just above his wrist. He knew what John was asking him and he wasn't going to do it. They were over, goddamnit. He yanked his hand free and stepped back. "Sorry, Cena but I have plans with Paul."

Those blue eyes flicked over to Paul for a second before coming back to him. "That's too bad. Well, if you change your mind, I'll be here." He headed off, not to one of the shared locker rooms, but down one of the dimly lit hallways.

Punk looked at Paul. "Let me get cleaned up then we can go and have dinner." But before he was finished talking his eyes slid away from Paul's, back to that hallway. He noticed John went into the second room on the right and closed the door. Not that he cared. He looked back at Paul. "Fifteen minutes and I'll be ready."

"Just go."

Punk huffed a laugh. "You must be starving. Fine, ten minutes."

Paul angled his head towards the hallway John had disappeared down. "No. Go and be with him."

Punk froze. "What?"

"I know you, Philip. And I know that even though you won't admit it to yourself or to me, right now you want to walk down that hallway and go through that door. But instead you'll go to dinner with me just to spite him and sit there the whole time convincing yourself that you did what was best."

Punk's face flushed hot in a mix of anger and embarrassment. "What the fuck, Paul? You're crazy. Let's just go eat."

Paul shook his head and started backing away. "Nope. I'm refusing to eat dinner with you tonight. So I hope you'll do the right thing with your newfound free time."

Punk watched in disbelief as Paul turned around and left him standing there. When he'd told Paul what John had done he hadn't said too much. But now it looked like he was on John's side! What the fuck was wrong with everybody? Punk looked down that hallway. Without him making a conscious decision to do so, he was walking down it, his heart pounding, his shoes scuffing on the dusty floor. But when he reached the door, he stood there without opening it or knocking. This was stupid. He shouldn't be here. John had no respect for him. He was about to walk away when the door suddenly swung open to reveal John standing there, still shirtless, his chest slick with sweat from their match.

"I knew you would come."

Before he could react, John's hand flashed out and grabbed his, pulling him into the room. As soon as the door was closed, John had him pressed up against it, their chests slammed together, John's full lips moving on his. Without even thinking he opened up for him, letting John's tongue slip between his lips to curl against his own. John's hands came up to the small of his back, stroking his sweaty skin, pulling the lower half of his body forward until their hips met. John ground against him and Punk moaned as he felt how hard John was behind the rough denim of his shorts. John sucked on his bottom lip, biting gently before letting him go. He smiled at him, a soft loving smile that Punk didn't want to see.

"I love the way you moan for me."

Punk tried to get some control of the situation before things went any further. "I'm not here to get back together with you."

The smile faded, but John kept stroking his back. "Then why are you here?"

"You know why."

"Maybe I don't. Why don't you tell me?"

Punk turned and grabbed the door handle. "I know I didn't come here to play games," he said pulling it open. But John's hand slapped against the wood, pushing it closed again.

"Tell me why you're here, Punk."

He turned back around and looked at John. "I'm here because I want you. _Physically_. That's all." A small smile quirked up the corner of John's mouth. He watched Punk without saying anything for several seconds before he spoke. His response wasn't what Punk expected.

"Take off your tights."

Punk stood there surprised for a moment that John wasn't going to say anything else. But when he only watched him silently, his lids partially lowered and hiding whatever expression was in those blue eyes, he did as he'd asked. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his pinstriped trunks he pulled them and the underwear he wore beneath down until he was able to kick out of them both. John's big hand immediately closed around his erection and started to stroke.

"I want you too, Punk. Want you so bad I could have fucked you in the middle of that ring in front of all those people."

Punk's eyes widened.

"Does that sound crazy? Well you _make_ me crazy."

John reached for his hand, slowly bringing it to his mouth. He watched, his hips rising in matching rhythm as the hand that continued to pump his cock, as John sucked two of his fingers into his mouth. The sight of his fingers disappearing between John's lips, his pink tongue coming out to slowly lick at the sensitive pads of his fingers held him entranced. With one last lick John released his fingers from his mouth. He lowered his arm back down to his side and guided him to slide one of his own slick fingers inside himself. Then he let go, bracing his hand on the door above Punk's head.

"Prepare yourself for me, baby."

Punk did, but he made it clear he was doing it because he wanted to not because John had any control over him. "Don't think I'm following your orders. I'm doing this because I want to."

"Does it matter? You're still doing what I want you to do." John squeezed the head of his cock, making him gasp. "Add another one."

Punk obeyed, pushing in another finger to join the first, twisting and scissoring them.

John whispered in his ear, "Tell me when you're ready," trailing kisses along the sensitive underside of his jaw.

Punk gasped, his hips curling up to meet John's pumping fist. "I'm ready now."

John leaned back and shook his head slightly. "I don't think so. Gotta make sure you're able to take me. All of me." He dropped his arm from the door to grab his hand and push his fingers in deeper. "One more, baby."

Punk again did what John ordered. Preparing himself for John while John stroked his cock had him hard as fuck. But he suddenly wanted to deny John the full satisfaction of knowing how effected he was. So as he slid a third finger inside himself, stretching his channel for John's cock, he bit his lip to stop the moan that rose up his throat. And of course John immediately noticed.

"So you're going to deny letting me hear the sweet noises you make? Let's see how long you can stick to that." John let go of his cock. "Turn around."

Punk pulled his fingers from himself and turned, bracing his forearms against the door. He heard the sounds of a belt opening and a zipper going down before the rustle of John's clothes falling to the floor. Then John's chest was pressed to his back, the hot hard flesh of his cock brushing against his ass before pushing inside him. Punk bit his lip again, stubbornly holding back the moan that wanted to come out. Once John was all the way inside him and his hand was again stroking his cock, Punk pressed his forehead to the door losing himself to the feeling of John pushing hard and strong deep inside him.

"Punk you're lying to yourself."

Punk roused himself from the mind numbing pleasure coursing through him to question John. "What?"

"If you think the only reason you're here with me right now is for sex, you're lying to yourself. You can get sex from anybody." John kept pumping into him his strokes getting harder and harder as he spoke. "But you followed me in here because you want to be with _me_. You want _me_ inside you. You want what _we_ have together. You want to _submit_ to _me_."

Punk shook his head wanting to deny what John was saying, but he couldn't get the words to come out. He couldn't think past the pleasure that had him shaking and pushing back to meet John's thrusts. John thrust hard against that sensitive spot inside him and he clenched his fists against the wood of the door as he fought to hold his moan back.

John laughed softly, his breath tickling his ear. "So goddamn stubborn. But that's okay, it just makes it all the sweeter when you finally give in."

John's fist left his cock and he almost, _almost_ cried out to ask for it back. But he remained silent. John grabbed his arms stretching them high above his head. One of John's hands wrapped tightly around his wrists, squeezing firmly while the other returned to pumping his shaft. A soft cry escaped him, thankfully too low for John to notice. John licked a slow path up his neck to his ear, making him shiver.

"No one else can make you feel like this, baby. Only me."

Punk squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Damnit, John was right. He loved the way he felt right now with John pressed tight against him, pushing so deep inside him, holding his arms down so that he felt like he had no choice to accept the pleasure John was giving him. John was in control. And it was what he wanted. John's voice was husky and low in his ear as that big fist squeezed him tighter, pumped him faster.

"Give me what I want, baby. Let me hear you moan."

Punk couldn't hold back anymore. He dropped his head back against John's shoulder, the moans and cries John wanted to hear spilling from his lips as pleasure made his cock pulse and sent delicious tingles throughout his body. John growled softly in his ear, "There's my sweet sub." Punk tried to say that he wasn't John's. But John's hand was moving faster on him and his cock started to throb with his rising orgasm. He wanted to say "I'm not," and he managed to get the "I'm" out. But against his will it turned into, "I'm coming!"

John started to slam his cock into him fast and hard, his grip on his wrists tightening almost brutally. Punk was gasping as he took everything John had to give, spreading his legs for him. As John started to hit his sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, he cried out, not caring if there was anyone on the other side of the rattling door who might hear him. "Oh god, John! Fuck me! Fuck me John! Please, I need to come. Make me come!"

John groaned. "I like hearing that, baby." His hand slid down and squeezed his balls at the same time that he ground the head of his shaft against his spot. "Come for me." He squeezed again and Punk erupted. He shuddered and moaned with his release as John's hand returned to his shaft, stroking him swiftly until finally his head started to clear from the pleasure that had fogged his brain and his body eased.

John released his wrists and Punk sagged against the door, his heart racing. But John hadn't finished yet. John's hands gripped his hips as he continued to slide his cock in and out of his body.

"No one else can make you feel pleasure so intense, Phil. Only me. Accept it."

John's comment sparked one last bit of defiance in him. "Don't come inside me."

John's fingers tightened on his hips. "Why not?"

Punk caved, unable to admit he'd only said that to be a jerk. "White tights. It'll show." That was true at least. And John must have bought it because he withdrew and yanked his hand around to grasp his shaft and finish him off. He was glad to do it, loving the feel of John pulsing his release in his hand. But he felt empty that John hadn't come inside him.

John rested against his back, both of them breathing hard as the sweat dried on their skin.

"Come and stay the night with me."

Punk almost said yes. But just because they'd had sex didn't mean that he'd forgiven John. "I can't."

John spun him around. "Can't? Or won't?"

"Does it matter? Whichever, I won't be there."

John narrowed his eyes at Punk's continued stubbornness. "Fine. Then I want you again. Right now."

John pulled Punk into the center of the room. His face showed his reluctance, but he followed. He dropped down to the floor onto his back tugging Punk on top of him. "Ride me," he ordered. Punk's eyes closed and he sat there straddling his hips for a long moment. Then he reached behind him, grasping his shaft that was already hard again and lifted his hips. Punk slid down onto his shaft slowly and John groaned, thrusting up until he was all the way inside him. Punk started to ride him and again John groaned deep in his throat as those hot walls squeezed his shaft. And his heart, his pounded with joy that Punk was with him. The way he felt, and the way he knew Punk felt, _how_ could Punk think this was only physical?

John rubbed his hands over every patch of Punk's smooth skin that he could reach. He caressed his arms, stroked his belly, smoothed his hands up his back. And again and again he returned to those beautiful thighs, stroking them, squeezing them, feeling the muscles working as Punk worked his body up and down on his cock. He watched Punk the whole time, saw his lover with his head thrown back, lost in the pleasure he was feeling. Saw his lips part with his gasping breaths. Saw the pulse beating fast in his throat and his stomach muscles tightening. He knew Punk was about to climax, but he was filled with surprise when Punk spoke.

"Fuck! I need to come! May I come, Sir?"

John's eyes flashed to Punk's face. He waited a heartbeat to see if Punk would panic or go back on what he'd said. He didn't, he just continued to move, his face tight with tension. John sat up, wrapping one arm tight around Punk's back. With his free hand he grasped Punk's shaft and started to stroke. "Come for me, Phil. Come all over your Dom." He kissed Punk fiercely, thrusting his tongue into his lover's sweet mouth, not letting up or letting him pull away as Punk started to gasp with his orgasm. He swallowed Punk's moan as his orgasm jetted out in hot pulses onto his stomach.

When Punk calmed John lay back down, his hips thrusting up as his stomach tightened with his own coming climax. "You're so sweet and tight, Phil. Gonna come for you, baby."

Punk made as if to move off of him. "No, not inside me."

John clamped his hands tight on Punk's slim hips. "Yes. Inside you. Every drop, baby." Punk made a slight sound of protest, and attempted to rise up again. But as John started to come, pushing up hard, Punk dropped his head to his chest, his fingers digging into John's shoulders. And John heard his whisper, "Feels so good." John groaned and completely let himself go. His sub was stubborn, but he made him feel like no one else ever had.

XX

John lay there uncaring that the floor was cold and hard against his back. He didn't care, because Punk was resting on top of him, his legs folded on either side of his waist, their chests pressed together and Punk's face in his neck.

"I told you not to come inside me."

John smiled to himself. He knew Punk's strength and knew he hadn't tried very hard to stop him. He caressed Punk's ass, letting his fingers slide in the wetness there and on the backs of his thighs. "Sorry. Guess you'll have to stay here with me until it all runs out of you." Punk gave a wordless sound of annoyance but he didn't say anything. It was quiet for a moment before John spoke again. "Phil?" He wasn't surprised at the surly, "What?" that came back at him. "You called me Sir." Punk went still on top of him. "And you asked me for permission to come like a good boy." Punk immediately rolled off of him and stood up. John sat up and watched as he looked around the room until he found an old rag. "Why are you running away from me again?"

Punk quickly wiped himself off. "I'm not running. I told you I was only here for sex and we did that." He turned his back and pulled his trunks up. "So now I'm leaving."

He headed towards the door but John called out for him to stop. The muscles in Punk's shoulders were bunched tight with tension, but he stopped. John stood up and walked over to him, uncaring that he was still naked. He stepped close enough that he could feel Punk's body heat and he knew that Punk could feel his too. "You missed a spot." John swiped his finger in the lone streak of cum left on Punk's leg. He turned Punk around to face him and held his finger up before those sensuously thin lips. John didn't say anything, he just stared into Punk's eyes and waited. Finally his lips parted, his warm breaths blowing across John's hand for several heartbeats before Punk's tongue came out and slowly licked his finger. He moaned softly, his eyes closing, and sucked John's finger into his mouth. Triumph streaked through John but he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled his finger from his lover's mouth, sliding his hand down so that he held him lightly by the throat. John kissed him slowly, softly stroking his tongue inside to rub against Punk's. Punk succumbed to his kiss, his head falling back as he let John suck on his tongue. Then he abruptly turned his face away.

"Don't. This doesn't mean anything."

"Really? So after this, you can honestly say you don't want to be mine?"

A hard expression came over Punk's face as he set his jaw stubbornly. "I could never belong to anyone who lies to me and doesn't respect who I am."

"You know I'm sorry. And I know that I was wrong in what I did. I made a mistake and I regret it. I deserved to have you unleash that temper of yours on me. But you're keeping us apart unnecessarily by holding onto that anger, Phil. Why can't you see that?"

"You're wrong. I'm not keeping us apart. We _are_ apart, because of you. And we're going to stay that way."

"No. We're fighting. Couples fight. But I love you, Phil and I know that you love me. And that means that we work through our problems until they're resolved. And if I have to apologize a hundred different times a hundred different ways until you forgive me, then that's what I'll do. I'll do whatever it takes to make you see that I do respect you and that you can trust me."

Punk shook his head but John didn't let him say whatever he was about to. He tightened his hold on Punk's neck a fraction and kissed him hard. "You want to belong to me, Phil. And I'm going to reclaim what's mine."

Punk stepped out of John's hold and fumbled behind him for the door knob. John could think what he wanted. He wasn't running. But he got out of there as fast as he could.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: Poor Phil. All he wanted was for his friends to take his side in this. Can he hold onto his anger and stay away from John for much longer?

Repeat song was Melissa Etheridge's _I'm the Only One._ It's only John that makes you have the feelings that you're hiding from, Punk. =)

PS If you're wondering, I purposely didn't directly mention Lawler's heart attack in this. That was real and scary and I didn't think it would be appropriate.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of the WWE. If I did I'd be rich and buy my doggies diamond studded collars, which of course, they'd promptly destroy.

**Warning**: Cursing and m/m smut

**A/N**: Again you all are divided! Some of you want Punk to just give in and some of you think he shouldn't forgive John just yet. Yes! Always happy to get different opinions in the reviews. Speaking of which, 500! Thank you guys for being so nice and reviewing my story. =)

* * *

Punk sat in his seat on the plane. As the plane took off, he called himself an idiot over and over. Throughout the long flight, he went round and round in his head. When he landed he could put in a surprise appearance at NXT. He could just go straight to the ticket counter and get a return flight home. Or he could do what he was heading to Florida to do. He would settle on one plan then change his mind and settle on another. Towards the end of the flight he decided he'd pop into NXT and then fly back home. But then he thought of the cactus.

He'd arrived at the arena for RAW the next day after Night of Champions and put his stuff down in one of the locker room cubbies. He'd headed off to get water and when he came back there was a potted cactus sitting in his cubby. He'd looked around for John because he knew that's who the plant was from. But he was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was a note.

_Cactuses are prickly fuckers and it's not easy getting close to them. But you can't help but want to reach out and touch one, especially when there's that one perfect bloom, taunting you with its beauty._

The note hadn't been signed, but even without recognizing the messy scrawl, Punk had known it was from John. He'd looked again at the cactus, noting that there was one bright flower on top of the plant. And the bloom was red, his favorite color. He'd had to sit down for a minute and just process. The flowers John had sent him had all ended up in the trash. But he had a feeling that this spiky plant would be with him for awhile.

Punk roused himself from his daydreaming when the captain came on and did his spiel. They'd be landing soon. He thought again of the cactus. The spiky plant wasn't enough for him to forgive John. But it did make him think about things between them. The day after RAW he'd heard that John had gone in for surgery on his elbow. And before he knew it, he'd booked a flight to Florida. The plane arrived at the gate and started to power down. He'd traveled light so when it came time to deplane he grabbed his one backpack from under the seat and got off.

At the line of cabs at the curb he picked the cleanest vehicle with a company name that he recognized. When he got in the car the driver asked him for the address. Was he still angry at hurt at John's manipulations? Yes. But could he let John go through the first days out of surgery alone? He debated for a moment, long enough that the guy turned around to say, "The meter's running you know." Two addresses he could give. Residential or university. He gave the residential. His decision was made. He didn't argue with himself anymore. He put his headphones on and pulled his Cubs hat low over his eyes, relaxing for the duration of the car ride.

* * *

They pulled up to the sprawling estate and the cabbie looked in the rearview. "Is this the right address?"

He could sense the driver wondering what a guy like him was doing at a place like this. He snorted to himself. That never got old. He paid the man, giving him a fat tip, grabbed his bag and got out of the car. He didn't bother to watch the car pull away. He just walked straight up to the door and rang the bell. He was here now. No sense pussy footing around. He waited with his bag slung over his shoulder. He stood there for so long that he started to think that John might not home. He should have called first. He was reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone when the door swung open and there John stood. He had on a sleeveless tee and sweat pants, his feet bare, a black sling holding his arm protectively against his body. And he looked tired and in pain. Suddenly Punk was very glad that he'd come.

John couldn't have been more surprised when he looked at the security monitor and saw Punk standing in front of his door. He'd thought for a moment that maybe he was asleep, the meds making him dream of Punk. But the constant throbbing pain in his arm let him know that he was awake. "What are you doing here?"

"Well right now I'm probably causing your neighbors to call the police and report there's a homeless bum at your front door. You gonna let me in?"

John stepped back and let Punk in, still in disbelief. Punk shut the door then looked at him.

"I thought you could use some help for a few days."

John swallowed hard so he could speak past the emotion in his throat. "Yeah, I could. Being a one-armed man ain't easy."

Punk headed into the living room and John followed behind him. He'd forgotten about the mess he'd made until Punk remarked on it.

John shrugged his good arm. "I've been camped out here. It was easier than making trips up and down stairs every time I needed something, especially with that morphine still in my system." He started to sit back on the couch but Punk grasped his good arm and stopped him.

"Go upstairs and go to bed, John. I'll clean up this mess and bring you something to eat when you wake up."

John didn't move towards the stairs. He just stared at Punk before he cupped the back of his head, rubbing the soft fuzz there. "I can't believe you're here."

Punk met his gaze for a moment, then he lowered his eyes. "Go rest, John. I'll be here when you wake up."

John rested his forehead against Punk's. "Promise?"

Punk touched his chest briefly before his hand dropped away. "I promise."

* * *

When John woke up, he felt rested, his head almost clear of the fog left behind from all the pain meds. He immediately remembered that Punk had come to his house. Again he thought it might have been a dream. But as he sat up he saw his bedroom floor cleared of all the crap he'd left laying around. The light in the bathroom was on, lighting the way in the darkened room. He knew he hadn't turned it on before he went to bed. He strained his ears and heard the low sound of the stereo playing music he would never listen to on purpose. He hadn't dreamed it. Punk was here. He got up and went in to the bathroom to relieve himself and freshen up. When he came out Punk was just walking into the room with a tray.

"I figured you'd be up about now."

"Yeah I was just about to head downstairs."

"Pretty sure I told you to stay up here and I would bring you what you need. Although I guess I need a way to know when you need something."

John settled himself back on the bed. "I could get a little silver bell and ring it when I need you."

Punk gave him a look. "Don't even think about it."

"Well you could stay close to me. Then I could just tell you when I need you."

Punk didn't say anything to that. He just settled the tray on his lap and backed away. John looked at the tray in surprise. There was a steaming hot bowl of what looked like fresh soup, oranges, and crackers. And a big glass of water. "Did you make soup?"

Punk snorted. "I _ordered_ soup. I know you probably want something more substantial, but until those meds are completely out of your system you won't have much of an appetite. So I figured sick people food was best."

John popped an orange slice in his mouth. "No, this is great," he said after he swallowed. "I keep thinking I'm starving but when I go to eat I leave half of it on the plate."

"Yeah, I saw."

John smiled sheepishly. "Thank you for cleaning that up for me. Sit down and keep me company."

Punk looked around but the only chair was way on the other side of the room. So he sat at the foot of the bed. The two of them talked while John made his way through soup, fruit, and crackers. He downed his glass of water and Punk stood up.

"I'll get you another."

"Thanks. Those pain pills are terrible. I've got a big case of cotton mouth going."

Punk took the glass and put it back on the tray. He went back downstairs with his load, dropping it off in the sink before he refilled the water glass. But when he walked back into John's room with the water John was sound asleep. He set the glass down on the nightstand and pulled the covers up over him. He watched John sleep for a moment. Then he went down the hall to the guest room he'd chosen for himself. He quickly prepared for bed and turned out the lights. He turned the TV on but kept the volume low. And he left the door open so he could hear John if he needed him in the middle of the night.

* * *

For a man who'd just had surgery, John had had a pretty awesome day. When he'd woken up that morning, Punk had still been there. He'd helped him shower and get dressed, joking about hiding his blushing eyes. They'd had breakfast together. Punk had driven him to his follow up appointment, and when the doctor asked why he was there he mentioned needing to have surgery on his knee pretty soon. Then they'd just hung out at his house for the rest of the day. Punk didn't make any mention of needing to leave and John realized he must have cleared his schedule up until the weekend's house shows so that he could stay there with him. John was humbled. He was hopeful for their future. And he was more in love than ever. They hadn't discussed their recent fights, but that was okay. Right now he was just enjoying this time with Punk. The discussion could wait.

Now the hour was late and he was sitting up in bed. He should probably turn out the bedside lamp and go to sleep, but Punk was still up somewhere in the house. And he didn't want to go to sleep until Punk did. Eventually, he heard Punk come up the stairs. He waited to see if he would come into his room or continue down the hall to the guest room. He did neither. There was no movement for a long time and then John heard a lock click and a door swing open. Again there was silence. John knew that Punk was looking into their playroom. He sat there quietly, wondering what Punk was thinking. Was he regretting their time in there? When the door closed again he called out to him. "Hey, Phil. Can you come in here, please?"

Punk appeared in his doorway. "Did you need something?"

John shook his head. "Just some company."

"I've kept you company all day." But he came into the room.

John scooted over and patted the empty spot next to him. "Come sit with me for awhile." Punk kicked his shoes off and settled on the bed. John looked at him. "Thank you very much for coming to take care of me, Phil."

Punk shrugged and looked away. "You always took such good care of me. It was the least I could do."

John lightly grasped Punk's chin and turned his face back to his. "Is that the only reason you're here? To repay a favor?"

Punk lowered his eyes. "No. But it's the only one I want to discuss right now."

He brushed his lips softly against Punk's. "I can accept that."

"John … don't."

He gave him another soft kiss before he whispered against his lips. "Don't what?"

"Don't kiss me."

"Why not?"

"Because you know it'll lead to something more. And lately every time it does nothing good comes from it."

John stroked his thumb across Punk's cheek. "I don't agree with that. I think every time we're together you open up to me just a little bit more." John kissed him again, a little longer this time. Punk's lips parted beneath his, but he didn't take advantage of it. He pulled back and looked at Punk, who swallowed hard.

"I'd better get back to my room." He started to get up.

He put his hand on Punk's leg to stop him. "Don't go. Stay a little longer. I promise not to touch you." John grinned as Punk looked down at his hand on his thigh. He moved it away. "Starting now."

Punk relaxed again. "Alright, I'll stay. What do you want to do?"

"I was hoping you could do me another favor."

Punk looked at him, his eyes curious. "What?"

"Well, I have this fantasy of you pleasuring yourself, right in front of me."

Punk laughed. "John… you're crazy."

He shrugged "Maybe. But it would make me feel better. And I promise to go to my physical therapy tomorrow if you do this for me."

Punk shook his head, the smile lingering on his mouth. "You're going to go anyway."

"Yeah, but this way I'll go with a smile on my face." He lowered his voice to a husky whisper and looked at Punk from beneath his lashes. "C'mon Phil. Do this for me. I promise not to touch you."

Punk sat there silently for a few moments just gazing back at him. Then he reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. He tucked his fingers into the waistband of his shorts and lifted his hips to pull them off. Then he laid down on his back on the bed.

John scooted down too, propping himself up on his good arm. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

Punk closed his eyes, his hand drifting down his belly to grasp his semi-erect cock. He bit his lip as he made contact and started to stroke.

"Phil, I want you to do something for me."

Punk's voice was a hushed whisper in the quiet room. "Okay."

"I want you to think of one of our times together while you touch yourself. Will you do that for me?" Punk nodded, his eyes still closed. "Good. What are you thinking of?"

"My first visit here, when we were in your garage … on top of your Mustang."

Surprise and arousal jolted through John. Arousal because he remembered that time, remembered how Punk had let him do whatever he wanted to his body. And surprise because he'd thought for sure that had been one of the things that caused Punk to run from him. He cleared his throat. "Tell me what you remember from that day."

"You took me into your garage to show me your cars."

_I cannot believe you have a multi-car garage. I have one car and a Vespa. _

_John laughed. That's because you spend all your money on comic books and Twizzlers. _

"_Ha-ha," Punk laughed dryly. _

_He took Punk around the garage showing off all his cars. He saved his favorite for last, a 1970 Ford Mustang Boss. It was painted a glossy black with very little embellishment on either the interior or exterior. _

_Punk rubbed his hand over the hood. "I like this one. It doesn't need stripes or anything else to show how amazing it is. And I'm pretty sure it's snarling at me," he said with a laugh. _

_John was immediately filled with desire watching Punk's hand caress his favorite car as he described it in the exact same manner that he would. "I want you." _

_Punk laughed again. "You always want me." He nodded towards the house. "Let's go then." _

_John shook his head. "Uh-huh. I want you right now." He backed Punk up against the grill of the black Mustang. He leaned forward to put his hands on the hood of the car on either side of Punk, forcing him to lean back. "Right here." _

"And then what happened?"

"You laid me on the hood of your black Mustang. And you took all my clothes off."

John scooted a little closer. "I did. Did I tell you anything, baby?"

Punk nodded, his hand still slipping up and down on his cock. "You told me I was beautiful."

"Mmmm… I can see why I said that. What else happened?"

Punk moaned, his hand moving a little faster. "You fucked me … first with your tongue, then your cock."

John scooted even closer, close enough that he could feel Punk's body heat. "And did that feel good to you?"

"Yes … yes. I loved it."

_John slowly pushed Punk down until he lay on the hood. He told him to scoot up until his head rested on the windshield, his legs hanging over the grill. John pulled Punk's shorts and boxers down and off and stroked his hand up Punk's bare thigh. "You. Naked. On top of my favorite car. I think this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life." He stretched the leg he was caressing up in the air, gripping Punk's thigh tightly as he bent his head to suck at that smooth skin. He dropped slowly to his knees, sucking more kisses as he went down until he reached Punk's ass. With no warning, no teasing he thrust his tongue inside him. Punk cried out, his body jerking and almost slipping off of the car. But John held him steady and tongue-fucked him until he was writhing and moaning with pleasure. John looked up at Punk. Sunlight streamed down from the sky light in the garage roof, falling onto Punk's body, making his skin and his colorful tattoos glow against their black backdrop. John's heart pounded. He didn't know how he'd managed to catch such a wild and gorgeous man, but he wanted to keep him with him always. _

_John stood up straight and undressed. He pulled Punk down until he was in the position he wanted him in. He fit his cock to his sub's entrance and pushed inside him. John started thrusting into Punk's snug heat slow but hard. His pace was steady and unchanging, drawing desperate little moans from Punk, his back arching up off the hood. John laughed deep and low. "Look at you stretched out on the hood of my car with my cock deep inside you. I bet I could open this garage door and let anybody who goes past see me fucking you and you wouldn't care, would you?" Punk shook his head wildly. "That's right you wouldn't care. Because you know who owns you. And you'll do whatever I want you to do. Won't you, sweet sub?" Punk nodded as he sucked on his lip ring. John leaned down and sucked at Punk's neck. "You're such a good boy, Phil. _**My**_ good boy."_

_He purposely let his stomach brush against Pun's cock as he thrust inside him with bruising strength. He brushed against him hard enough for Punk to feel it and like the friction. Soft enough that it didn't satisfy him. He watched as Punk rubbed his hands down his stomach coming closer and closer to touching his cock. But he knew the rules, so he didn't touch it. Then his fingertips brushed his cock head. He bit his lip, his eyes flashing to John's to see if he'd noticed. John pretended that he hadn't. He grabbed him by the backs of the thighs, pushing his legs up, folding that limber body in half beneath him. He continued to thrust, loving the way Punk's walls squeezed him. But he didn't want either of them to get too close to climax. Not yet. So John pulled out and yanked Punk down, his sweaty skin sliding on the slick metal. Once Punk's feet hit the ground he turned him over. "Brace your hands on the hood." _

_Punk followed his order immediately, pushing his ass back towards him. John smacked his hand on one of those smooth cheeks. "Are you trying to rush me?" _

"_No. I … I just want to feel you, Sir." _

"_Is that right? Which do you want to feel more?" He lightly stroked his hand down Punk's shaft. "My hand on your cock?" He let him go and brushed the head of his cock against his ass. "Or my cock in your tight little ass?" _

_Punk moaned. "I want … I want whatever you want, Sir." _

John was close enough now that he leaned over and whispered in Punk's ear. "What happened next, Phil, after I fucked you with my tongue and my cock?"

When Punk noticed how close he was he gasped and made as if to scoot away. But John shushed him. "It's okay, baby. I won't touch you I promise. Just tell me what happened next."

Punk raised his knee, his foot planted on the bed as he fucked up into his fist. "You made me cum."

_John scooted Punk closer to the car, groaning as he pushed back inside his sub. "Good boy." He held those slim hips tight enough to leave bruises as he stroked into him. After a few moments, he worked his hand around to grip his lover's cock in his fist. He stroked fast and tight until Punk was gasping. _

"_I need to come, Sir!" _

_John smiled a secretive smile that he knew Punk couldn't see. "Go ahead, baby. Come for me." Punk cried out and then he was coming, his body jerking forward as he released. John slowed his thrusts until he was barely moving. "Phil?" _

_Punk was breathing hard as he answered. "Yes, Sir?" _

"_Did you just come on my car?" _

_Punk went still. "Shit, John. I'm sorry." _

"_Don't worry about it," he replied silkily. He waited a moment for Punk to relax. "Just clean it up." Punk made as if to push himself up, but John stopped him. "With your tongue." _

_Punk didn't hesitate. He lowered his head to the hood of the car. John started thrusting deep again watching Punk as he turned his head and looked at him over his shoulder. Those sexy green eyes stayed locked on his as Punk's tongue came out and very slowly licked through the spill of pearly cum. John growled deep in his chest. "You are so fucking sexy." A wicked glint lit up Punk's eyes as he did it again. John grabbed him by the back of his collar and pulled him up. Twisting Punk's head around, he kissed him roughly, sucking Punk's tongue into his mouth, tasting his cum. Then he shoved him back down. He hooked his arm under Punk's knee, stretching his leg up until it was tucked next to his body on the hood of the car. With his other hand he gripped his sub's collar, pulling it just tight enough for him to feel it and know he was owned. He laid almost all of his weight on top of Punk, as he fucked into him roughly. He angled to hit his sub's spot, knowing he was successful as Punk trembled and gasped, his fingers clenching and clawing on the windshield. John felt his orgasm coming, but he wanted to make sure his sub found his release too. He spoke into Punk's ear, his voice harsh with arousal. _

"_Come for me, little sub. I won't come until I feel this sweet ass gripping me tight with your orgasm. And I wanna come. Badly." He licked Punk's ear. "Wanna fill you up. So don't make me wait." He thrust as hard as he could into that sensitive spot again and Punk shouted out, "Oh, fuck yes! I'm coming, Sir! I'm coming!" John groaned. "I can feel you." Punk's channel squeezed him tight, and John bit his lover's neck as his release burst from his cock. He pressed his shaft deep inside him, flooding Punk with his heat, making him moan … _

John was insanely hard as he listened to Punk's description of that day, his mind filling in anything he didn't mention. And watching his lover stroking himself, his tattooed hand wrapped so tightly around his thick cock, his hips thrusting up, had him ready to lose it.

Suddenly, Punk gasped, "I'm coming!"

John didn't touch him. But if he were any closer he'd be on top of him. "Come, baby. Let me see you."

"Kiss me!"

John's eyes shot to Punk's face and he saw that his eyes were open, looking straight at him. He didn't have to be asked twice. He leaned over Punk, sealing their lips together, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. But Punk tore his mouth from his and John was disappointed that he'd ended their kiss so soon.

"John … I need to feel you on top of me. _Please_."

It was awkward with one arm, but he rolled on top of Punk immediately. Punk's hands went to the waistband of his sweatpants, frantically pulling them down. John lifted himself with one arm, aiding Punk so that his pants ended up around the middle of his thighs. He kept his good hand planted on the bed, thrusting his hips so that their cocks slid together. Punk's legs came up and wrapped tight around his waist. He kissed Punk again, shuddering as he squeezed his hand around both of their cocks, pumping them swiftly. He knew Punk was close and so was he. As he felt the silky wet heat of Punk's release against his shaft, he let himself go too.

**XX**

John collapsed back to Punk's side. Punk looked at him, his chest still heaving.

"Every time… every time I feel like I'm supposed to be with you. That I'm supposed to belong to you."

John's heart pounded at Punk's remark. "Does that bother you?"

Punk took a deep breath. "I try to tell myself that it does. Or that I don't really feel that way, that it's only good sex." He laughed. "Well, fucking great sex. But even though I'm a hard-headed motherfucker, even I have to admit that I'm bullshitting myself."

John smiled at Punk's blunt confession. "Well I have to admit that I'm glad that you feel that way."

Punk looked at him a long moment. "You lied to me John. And you kept things from me."

John sobered. "I know. I was wrong no matter how I try to justify it. And I really am sorry. I promise you, nothing like that will ever happen again. If it's not just us behind closed doors I won't ever interfere in or try to control anything again."

Punk shook his head. "This time I'm not just being stubborn, but just because you say that doesn't mean that you won't. Or at least, doesn't mean that I _believe_ that you won't. And I have to trust you if you really want me to be yours again."

John nodded. "I know. Until you trust me, I won't ask anything from you, except for the chance to spend time with you." He smiled. "I can't show you that I'm trust worthy if you won't let me near you."

"That's fair."

He got up and John just managed to keep from asking him to stay with him. Punk went into his en suite bathroom, John listening as he heard the water running. He came back out with a towel and cleaned their mixed release off his stomach and softened cock and helped him pull his pants back up. Then he returned the towel to the bathroom. He came back out and walked towards the doorway. When he turned off the switch, John tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Goodnight, Phil."

But Punk's footsteps crossed back to the bed and Punk laid down in front of him. "Is this okay?"

John curled his body around his love's. He was so happy right then. "Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't want to accidentally hurt your arm in the middle of the night."

John pressed a kiss to the nape of Punk's neck. "My arm will be fine."

It was quiet for a few moments before Punk spoke again.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I can hear you smiling."

His smile grew. "That's because I am."

Punk was quiet again and then he felt the lightest caress on the fingers of his injured arm.

"Me too."

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: I have had this chapter sketched for what seems like forever! So glad it finally came time to type it up. So what do you guys think? Is Punk caving too easily or was it time for him to let go of his justified anger? Repeat song for the muscle car sex was Notorious B.I.G's _I'm Fucking You Tonight_. John likes rap, that song is dirty, and well … that scene was sorta dirty. ;-)

HeartDeNijs sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter! If you guys want to read some hot but funny muscle car Punkena check out her story, Gold Trans Am. She wrote it after I teased her with John's memory of him and Punk on the hood of that Ford Mustang Boss. =)


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and known no one from the WWE. But as HeartDeNijs heard on Colt Cabana's Art of Wrestling, they are watching us. So I'm minding my P's & Q's. Ha! No, I'm not.

**Warning**: slash, cursing, yadda, yadda, yadda

* * *

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

John looked at Punk. "What do you mean?"

"It's been less than a week since your surgery, John. And you kinda look like you'd rather be at home."

Punk was right. His arm was hurting, but he had a job to do. He tried to set Punk's mind at ease by teasing him. "Since when did you become such a mother hen? First taking care of me at home, now concerned I should have taken a sick day."

Punk's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Next time you have your body hacked into, I'll leave you there to deal with it on your own."

John laughed. He wouldn't trade Punk's visit to him in Florida for anything. He lightly touched Punk's lower back. "I like you as a nurse. But maybe next time you can wear a cute little nurse's outfit?"

Punk laughed too. "I don't think so."

John smiled. "Well since you like getting new ring gear so much maybe you can get a set in white and replace the stars with red crosses. Then all you'd need is a nurse's cap." John playfully rubbed Punk's buzz. "Although I'm not sure how you'd get it to stay on this bald head."

Laughing again, Punk ducked from under his hand. "Keep on dreaming John-boy."

John saw Heyman and AJ approaching and knew it was time for Punk to go open the show. He stepped back. "Looks like it's about that time."

Punk turned and saw the two behind him. "Hey, Heyman. It's 8 o'clock. Do you know where your microphone is?"

Heyman brandished the mic in his hand. "Right here, my friend."

Punk grinned. "Best talker in the world."

Heyman bowed his head, raising his hands in dissent. "I beg to differ. You, CM Punk, are the best in the world."

John rolled his eyes, but it was AJ who spoke up.

"If you two are finished with this mutual self-admiration society, we have a universe waiting for us to get started," she said as she ran her fingers through her hair.

John had to hold back a grin as AJ's sass got Punk and Heyman moving to the curtain, Punk laughing while Heyman gave AJ a superior look as he passed her. When they were gone John looked at AJ who was still standing there. She had a few minutes before she had to go out.

"Hey, AJ. Look, I'm sorry if I was a little hard on you when I warned you off Punk."

The tiny brunette shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I'd probably do something just as crazy if he were mine." Her eyes widened. "Not that I want him to be! I mean I did – but I don't now. Of course he's still hot! But I know he's yours." AJ closed her eyes and sighed. "This is why I'm not allowed to talk to people unless there's a camera on me."

John laughed at her babbling. "It's alright. Just as long as we're cool."

AJ opened her eyes and smiled a genuine smile. "Yes. We're cool."

**XX**

John watched on the monitor as Punk sat in the middle of the ring with Heyman behind him. They made a good pair, Heyman's smarm the perfect complement to Punk's belligerence. Punk got up and started berating the ref until AJ went skipping out. As John watched Punk and AJ interact, he couldn't help but think of everything he'd done to make sure he kept AJ away from Punk. Punk was right. He had been an insecure asshole in what he'd done. Well some of what he'd done. He should never have yelled at Punk like that demanding that Punk clear the kiss with him first. No matter how upset he was, his sub deserved better treatment than that. And going by Punk's legitimately confused reaction on why John was so upset, Punk never had any intention of starting things with AJ. It hadn't even been on his radar. And he should have _never_ asked Steph to end their program. He had no right to interfere in Punk's career, no matter how worried he'd been. He would have to trust his lover. Trust that when Punk said he wanted to belong to him, he meant it. But he stood by warning off AJ. Maybe he shouldn't have threatened her with her role in the company, but he'd be damned if he'd stand by and let anyone make a move on his man.

John gave his full attention back to the monitor. Punk was close in AJ's face taunting her about how it was him that'd put the skip in her step. And AJ was playing it up, her expression one of embarrassed hurt and anger. Again he felt a moment's regret for his call to Steph. If he hadn't done that, those two could have a great finish to their story line instead of the abrupt end he'd caused. But then he shrugged. What was done was done. And even though he knew it was only TV he was pretty fucking glad he didn't have to see AJ kissing Punk anymore. Their promo ended as they went to a commercial break.

Punk came back through the curtain with Heyman at his side. He saw John still standing there. He told Paul he'd see him later and headed over. "So, what'd you think?"

John looked at him. "I think you were an asshole."

Punk smiled. "Thank you. What'd you think of my part with AJ?"

"I think you were an asshole."

Punk laughed. "Thank you! So you're not going to flip out and demand I clear it with you first the next time I insinuate I made whoppie with AJ?"

"I deserved that."

Punk smirked. "You did you possessive bastard."

John stepped close to him, his hand tugging on the back of his t-shirt. "I'm always going to be possessive of you, Phil. I can't help that. But I won't ever disrespect you like that again. I was an asshole. I know it and I don't ever want to be that way to you again. But more than that, I trust that you won't just up and leave me, so I don't have any reason to flip out over TV nonsense. Are you okay with that?"

Punk looked into John's blue eyes, realizing for the first time that John's actions concerning AJ were because John had been afraid that he would leave him. That didn't excuse them. But at least now he knew it wasn't only because John wanted to control him. He bit his lip, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a smile. John was crazy. But as long as he didn't go overboard like he had before, he didn't mind his possessiveness. "Yeah, I'm okay with that." John's hand slipped under his shirt to caress his back.

"Good."

Punk looked around and noticed a few people watching them. He felt a blush rise up on his face. "John, people are looking at us."

"So? They're going to have to get used to seeing me touch you."

Punk almost gave in but he knew he would have to start telling John when he needed him to back off. So he used the same warning tone he'd used before. "John, not right now." John dropped his hand from under his shirt and Punk grinned. "Wow. So down boy does work with you."

John raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't necessarily call it that."

Punk just laughed. It really did feel good to know that John would listen to him.

John smiled at him. "I'll see you later. Don't forget to check your locker before you go back out there."

Punk grinned as John walked off. At each house show over the weekend he'd found a gift from John in his locker space. None of the gifts were anything big, but each of them definitely fit him. So far he'd found two giant rolls of athletic tape and 10 red Sharpies on Friday, Dri-Fit running socks on Saturday, and a bottle of baby oil on Sunday. At that last gift he'd sent John a text. _Baby oil? That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?_ John had replied: _What do you mean? That's only to help you look good for the cameras. But if you tweak your back again and need another massage, let me know_. Punk didn't say anything then but after the match he texted: _Ow, my back is so sore. Too bad you're not here to help me out_. He'd barely taken his thumb off the send button when his phone lit up with John's response. _Getting on the next flight_. He'd laughed. But then thinking that John might actually be serious he'd sent off another response. _Just kidding! But thank you for the gift._ John had called him a tease and put a sad face. When Punk saw it he'd rolled his eyes and put his phone away.

Punk smiled thinking about the gifts. They were unnecessary. But he liked them. He knew John hadn't put them there himself since he'd been at home recuperating. But the thought that he'd taken the time to not only think of the gifts but bothered someone to get them and put them in his locker just reinforced how much John cared for him. Punk played it cool and calmly walked to the locker room. But when he took the top off the white box there waiting for him, he burst out laughing. There were two bunches of Twizzlers, bundled and tied together to form a big red **X**. And a note: _You'd better not throw any of these at me._ Still laughing, Punk pulled one of the Twizzlers free and took a big bite.

Later that night Punk was walking from catering with a big bottle of water. He'd finished his in-ring promo with Foley not too long ago but he was still thirsty. He'd gotten pretty worked up in that segment. Plus those lights over the ring were hot. As he took a big drink, he noticed Wade's shitty theme music was blasting. Punk considered going back the way he'd come, not sure if he was ready to run into the Englishman after their short encounter a few weeks ago. But as he caught sight of Barrett he realized he didn't have to worry. Kidd was in front of him with his head bowed, both of them breathing hard and sweating after their match together. As he continued to watch, Barrett said something that he couldn't hear. Kidd nodded and stepped back. Wade headed off down the hallway with Tyson trailing behind him. Punk snorted. It looked like he'd dodged a bullet, because he didn't ever see himself walking behind anybody, submissive or not. Then he shrugged. At least it looked like Kidd had someone to play with and would finally leave John alone.

* * *

Two weeks later, John sat in his hotel room in Sacramento. He was glad to be back on the road full-time again, not just because he'd missed his work, but because he'd missed Punk. After RAW on the 24th John had gone home to Tampa to recuperate. He'd been on a very restricted travel schedule with the company as he healed. He'd even missed the first RAW of October. And Punk had been so busy promoting his upcoming DVD and WWE 13 that he hadn't had a chance to come and see him at his house again. They'd been limited to the few days on the road they had together to spend time with one another. But he'd made good use of the time. He'd called Punk on the night of his Chicago DVD release party, congratulating him on the accomplishment. As they'd talked there'd been none of the cockiness that Punk was known for on television. Instead, he'd been quiet and humbled. And before he got off the phone he said in such a low voice that John almost didn't hear it, "I wish you could be here." John had clenched his hand on the phone tight. His injury and the fact that it would make no sense for John Cena to be in Chicago at CM Punk's release party prevented him from being there. But he wished with everything he had that he could be. So he'd replied, "I wish I was too, baby." And for the first time since their argument over his interference in Punk's career, he'd told Punk that he loved him. He'd closed his eyes in relief when Punk said he loved him too before hanging up.

John looked at the clock, considering whether or not to call Punk over. It was late and he knew Punk needed his sleep. But he really wanted to see him. He'd just decided to let him rest for the night when his phone buzzed with a text.

_WIRED! Wanna come over for a while? Room 1126_.

John smiled to himself. Clearly Punk was not at all ready for sleep. He got up and threw on fresh clothes before grabbing his wallet and room key to head out.

Punk sat in the hotel chair with the remote in his hand, flipping through channels. He wasn't really looking for anything to watch. Instead, he was thinking about John. Thinking about everything from the snatches of time they'd managed to grab over the past two weeks, to the phone calls, to the gifts John had sent him. He was thinking about one of the gifts in particular.

Last Monday, John hadn't traveled with them to RAW. And Punk had admitted to himself that he missed him. So he'd thought it funny that when he went to his locker this time there was a mini John there, a John Cena bobble-head. He'd texted John: _The bobble-head is a poor substitute, but I guess it'll have to do since you're still carrying on about that scratch on your arm_. Instead of texting a reply, John had called him telling him to admit that he missed him. When he did, John had promised that he'd be back on the road with him by that weekend. Punk got off the phone knowing John would keep his promise. But when he went back to his locker at the end of the night, there was another gift there, a book with a plain black cover. When he opened it there was a picture of a bound woman and the title, _Screw the Roses, Send me the Thorns_. The book was a detailed discussion on Dominance and submission. That night he'd started reading it whenever he had a little downtime. It was enlightening, helping him to understand both his and John's roles in their relationship. And it was almost … comforting … in a way to see the things he'd felt and experienced with John written about by others in such a personal yet matter of fact way.

Reading that book, John's gifts, their long conversations both on the phone and when they were together, all of those things combined were helping him get back to that point where he felt like he could be with John again. And little by little Punk was giving in to John, letting him take control. If John called him on the phone, he dropped what he was doing to talk to him. When John called him to his room, he went. If John told him to take his clothes off, he did. And he laid there as John caressed him everywhere but where he wanted it most, kissing him only on the mouth, before finally following John's order to stroke himself off. And every time he tried to touch John as well John denied him with, "Not till you're mine again." By now he was ready to fall at John's feet and give him whatever he wanted just to be able to touch him. Which meant it probably wasn't a good idea for him to invite John over to his room where they'd be alone. But he was bursting with energy and he wanted company. Well, he wanted John's company. When the knock at the door came he hurried to answer it. John was standing there just as he expected.

"Thanks for coming over. You're sure you don't mind? I know it's late."

"No, it's fine."

Punk rubbed his hand over his shorn hair and stepped back. "I am completely wired after that match with Vince. It'll probably be awhile before I calm down enough to go to sleep."

John came all the way into the room and closed the door, watching as Punk practically bounced over to the table.

"But look, I got Candy Land!"

John chuckled. "Where did you get that?"

Punk sat on the bed and started setting up the game. "Some of the guys are having a game night. That's where Kofi is. And they stopped at Wal-Mart on the way back from the arena to get some games. My choices to take were Scrabble or Candy Land." Punk grinned at him. "I figured you'd have a better chance at winning if I got this one."

John ignored that last bit. "So Kofi is out with the others. And you're here with me."

Punk looked up at him. "Yes. I wanted to play with you." An embarrassed flush crept up Punk's cheekbones. "I mean I wanted it to just be us."

John smiled and kicked his shoes off to sit on the bed. "Let's play."

**XX**

Three games in and John was holding back a smile. Punk had lost twice already and the frustration was clear on his face. John was going to let him win this one, but he couldn't resist teasing him first. "Hmmm… looks like we should have played Scrabble."

Punk looked up from the board with his eyes narrowed. Then he smiled … and tipped the game over.

John just smirked. "Sore loser?"

Punk didn't say anything but his smile grew. He pulled his bare foot back and kicked the whole game off the bed.

John's eyes widened. "You brat!" Punk shrugged carelessly and without thinking John launched himself across the bed and tackled him. Punk landed on his back, all the air going out of him with a soft whoosh as John fell on top of him. He grabbed Punk's wrists and held them over his head, grinning down at him. "You can't be the best in the world at everything." But the teasing smile fell from his lips at Punk's expression. He stared up at him with his lips parted and eyes wide. Desire softened his eyes and in them John saw that look he always had as he waited for his instructions. He'd denied them both the physical intimacy they wanted as he waited for Punk to trust him again. But right now, with Punk looking at him with such an obvious desire to submit he knew it didn't make sense to deny them any longer. John squeezed Punk's wrists once and those pretty green eyes drifted closed, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "What do you want, Phil? Do you want me to get off you so we can play another game?" He pressed his hips down, rubbing their growing erections together. "Do you want me to leave?" John squeezed his wrists again and Punk's hips thrust softly against his in response. "Or do you want me to show you again how good it feels to submit to me? Tell me what you want. "

His eyes still closed, Punk sucked his lip ring for a moment before he answered. "I want you … Want you to show me."

John groaned, Punk's words making him think of that first night when Punk had asked him to show him about BDSM. He kissed those thin yet soft lips, sliding his tongue slowly inside when they parted. John kissed him over and over, taking in each of Punk's breathy little moans. Finally he released his mouth and started to loosen his grip on his wrists. Punk protested.

"John, please. Don't let go."

But John knew he couldn't just give Punk what he wanted. If he wanted to experience the pleasure he felt in being restrained, he was going to have to earn it. So John let him go.

Punk's eyes sprang open. "John…Why?"

"I think you've forgotten the way things work. I decide what happens between us, Phil. And I know what you need, when you need it. Do you understand?" Punk nodded, his breath coming a little faster. John rolled off of him. "Get up and take your clothes off."

Punk stood up and reached for the hem of his t-shirt. He pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor then pushed his shorts and boxers off. John looked at Punk standing there naked, aroused, and waiting for his next instructions. He stood up himself and reached for Punk's erect shaft. Punk's eyes closed in clear anticipation of John stroking him. So just to keep him on his toes John merely brushed his finger over his slick cockhead before he dropped his hand. "Undress me."

Punk opened his eyes and looked at John. He wanted this. Wanted to hear John's deep voice telling him what to do. He reached for John's shirt and started undressing him. Once the shirt was over John's head he met his gaze again. John's eyes stayed locked on his as Punk opened his shorts and pushed them off. And Punk was unable to look away. He was caught by that bright blue gaze. The look in them was intense, making his pulse race, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. He could see how much John wanted him, but he knew that even at this point John would let him walk away if he wanted. But he didn't want to. He might not be ready to accept John's collar, but right now he wanted nothing more than to be with John again. To serve him, to please him, to do whatever John wanted him to do. He needed this more than anything. To show it he pushed John's boxers off and then waited there quietly, hands at his sides, for John's next command.

John sat back on the bed. "You know what I want."

Punk nodded, his eyes drifting down to look at John's big erection.

"Then get on your knees and do it."

Punk slowly dropped to his knees. John spread his legs and Punk moved between them. His hand closed around John's shaft, but he hesitated, kneeling there with his head bowed.

John spoke again, his voice hard. "Don't keep me waiting, Phil."

Arousal rushed through Punk at John's harsh voice. He leaned forward and sucked John into his mouth. And as he moved his mouth up and down on that thick shaft, that wonderful sense of pleasure washed over him. But it wasn't just physical pleasure. Yes, John tasted good and he loved the way his lips were stretched wide as he sucked, loved the way John felt in his mouth. But it was the knowledge that he was making John feel good that had his belly doing that crazy yet familiar tingling lift. It was John's groans of satisfaction that had shivers chasing up and down his spine. _He_ was the one responsible for bringing John so much pleasure.

Punk continued to hold John's cock steady so that he could suck faster and faster, his only thought to please John. He rubbed his free hand up and down the hard muscles of John's thigh, feeling them clench every time he tongued John's slit or the sensitive underside of his cockhead. As he continued to rub John's leg, John's fingers brushed his. Punk maintained the contact and John laced their fingers together. Punk held on tight. He looked up at John and saw him watching him with that fiercely possessive look that he hadn't seen in so long. That he hadn't even realized he'd missed, until now. As he watched John watching him, he tried to convey what he was feeling in his eyes. Tried to let John know that he was happy to be kneeling at his feet serving him like this. When John tightened his fingers on his even more, Punk felt that John knew everything he was feeling.

Punk lowered his eyes again, concentrating on bringing John to climax. But John put a finger under his chin and lifted his head. Punk immediately stopped sucking. Letting John drop from his mouth, he licked his lips and knelt there waiting to see what John wanted.

"On the bed. Lie down on your back."

Punk was on his feet before he even realized it. The want, the _need_ to follow John's every order was strong in him once more. As soon as he was settled on his back, John laid on top of him, his heavy frame pressing him into the mattress. Punk loved that feeling, loved knowing that he was under John's control. He could give in to John's strength, let him take over. He spread his legs to make room for John, gasping as their naked cocks rubbed together. John's lips trailed up his neck to his earlobe and even though he knew that John would bite him, when it came, his hips still jerked in reaction. John moved down his body, touching him everywhere. Hard sucking tugs at his nipples. Fingers softly trailing down his sides. Sharp nips of teeth on his stomach. Long licks of his tongue along the crease where his hip and thigh met. Finally, _finally_ John grasped his cock and pumped him slowly. Punk moved his hips in rhythm with John's strokes, but he knew better than to try and rush John' pace. He felt John's hot breath on his balls just before he sucked one into his mouth. He gasped sharply, his hips thrusting up hard as John swirled his tongue around his sac, sucking him lightly. Punk brought his knees up, planting his feet on the bed. His hands drifted down to rest on John's shoulders. "John, that feels so good." Punk trembled as John licked his way down to his entrance. At the first push of that hot tongue inside him, Punk's legs fell open wide. He laid there, open for John as he fucked his tongue in and out of him. His big hands squeezed and caressed his thighs, pushing them open even further. Punk was writhing on the bed, moaning as he circled his hips again and again. He wanted to feel John's hand on his cock so he asked for it. John's response was quick.

"No. I want my hands here." He squeezed his thigh. "And here," he said, pushing a finger deep inside him.

Punk cried out as that thick digit entered him. That felt good, but he was greedy. He wanted more. Wanted to feel John's cock fucking into him, stretching him and hitting against his spot. And he wanted to have his shaft stroked. Since John wouldn't do it, maybe he could do it himself. He stroked his hands down his belly, stopping just short of his cockhead. "John, can I touch myself?"

John looked up at him from between his legs, his eyes hot with lust as he pushed another finger inside him. Punk waited breathlessly for his answer, but it was slow in coming. John twisted his fingers, pumping them in and out before he spread them apart. Punk felt John's breath wash over his skin as he whispered, "No." Then he speared his tongue inside him. Punk yanked his hands away from where they'd been so close to grasping his cock, slapping them onto the bed. His shaft throbbed, pre-cum leaking onto his belly as John's tongue slid into him deeper than before with his fingers holding him open. It felt good, so fucking good, but it made him want John inside him even more.

John looked up Punk's body. He was trembling, breathing swift and hard as he balled up the comforter in his clenched fists. He spoke, his voice shaky and desperate.

"John, I need you inside me."

John pulled his tongue from his lover's body. "You want me? Want me inside you?"

Punk nodded jerkily, his hips thrusting up.

"Then beg me."

Punk did, begging him to fuck him, telling him how much he wanted him, and saying please over and over. But it wasn't what he wanted to hear. So he kept going, thrusting his tongue inside his channel again and again, licking at his heavy sac, and giving him quick little bites on the insides of his thighs. John was pushing Punk hard, taking him right to the edge, but not giving him enough to send him over. He wouldn't. Not until he got what he wanted from his lover.

Punk was shaking, legs restlessly shifting on the bed as John teased and touched and caressed him. He'd begged, but still John tormented him, keeping him just shy of release and denying him what he wanted. He tried again. "John, please. I need you, please come inside me." John stopped what he was doing and slid up his body. Those bright blue eyes stared down so focused on him that Punk felt like he was the only thing John saw, the only thing he cared about.

"Beg me, Phil."

And suddenly Punk knew what he wanted. One little word was all it would take. "Please … Sir." He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. Because John started pushing inside him, slowly, every inch increasing the pleasure until his whole body was tingling.

John groaned as he sank into the welcoming heat of his lover's body. He knew that this was the right time for them. He wasn't going to hold back. Punk was ready, more than ready to submit to him once more. Once John was all the way inside, he stilled for a moment and looked down at Punk. His eyes were closed; head tilted slightly back, his lip ring sucked into his mouth. John started to move, watching as Punk's face tightened with tension. He pushed in hard and deep, keeping their bodies pressed together so that his stomach rubbed against Punk's straining shaft with each of his thrusts. "Is this what you wanted, Phil?" Punk moaned a yes and John licked at the sweat on his neck. "Mmm … Can you take a little more, baby? Take it a little harder?"

Punk gasped, his answer coming in between choppy breaths. "Yes … more. I want more."

John increased his speed, driving into Punk faster and faster. Punk grabbed onto his forearms to hold himself steady as John fucked him hard, the bed rocking from his movements. He changed the angle of his thrusts, reaching for and hitting that sweet spot deep inside his lover. Punk's mouth fell open with a gasp, his nails digging into his arms.

Punk kept his feet braced on the bed, his legs open for John. The feeling of John thrusting inside him, stretching him, and taking him how he wanted had his cock so hard he thought he was going to burst at any moment. Punk pushed his hips up, increasing the friction and pressure of John's hard abs rubbing against his shaft. But still he wanted more. He stroked his hands down John's sweaty back until he grasped his ass. He felt the muscles there clenching and flexing as he tried to pull John into him even harder. "More! I need more." John doubled the strength and the intensity of his thrusts until Punk felt completely dominated by the big man slamming his cock into him … hard, tight, fast.

John growled deep in his throat "I'll give you more. Give you all this tight little ass can take."

Punk cried out as he felt his orgasm rising, his stomach clenching, his balls drawing up tight and hard. He choked out a warning to John. "I'm about to come!"

John denied him, his voice harsh from his heavy breathing. "No, you're not. You'll wait until I give you permission."

John roughly grasped his arms, planting his hands on either side of his head and holding on tightly to his wrists. Punk moaned at how right it felt to have those big hands holding him down. Yet as the pleasure started to increase to almost unbearable levels, he started to fight it. He tried to get his arms free, but John only tightened his grip, squeezing his wrists hard enough to leave bruises. Punk shook his head back and forth. He couldn't hold his orgasm back any longer. He needed release. "I can't … I can't take it. Need to come!" John leaned down and crushed his lips with his, kissing him and cutting off anything else he was going to say. But John's tongue in his mouth only made it worse. He tore his face away. "Please! No more. Just let me come." John sank his teeth into his bottom lip and dragged him back. He kissed him again and Punk screamed into his mouth. Finally John released him but he didn't stop moving. He kept pounding into him again and again as he spoke.

"You wanted this, baby. Wanted me. Stop fighting it." John's voice changed to a silky whisper. "Remember what it felt like to submit to me, Phil? What it felt like to let me control you … let me own you." Suddenly John changed his movement too. His strokes were still as hard as ever, but now they were longer, slower, John pumping into him with a smooth roll of his hips. "Don't you want that again? That beautiful sweet peace of submitting to your Dom?"

Punk arched his head back into the pillows as he sobbed out a yes. John kissed him again, softly this time.

"Just let go, baby. Take me inside you and give yourself up to me. That's all you have to do. Just let go."

Punk looked up at John. He watched those full lips telling him to let go, met those blue eyes that were able to command him with just a look. And gradually it became easier. His orgasm was still there, pulsing in his cock, his body still trembling. But his head was calm. He let go like John said and stopped fighting what he was feeling. His body was John's to do with what he wanted and he would get his release when John … when his Dom gave it to him. John leaned down, his tongue softly lapping at his neck before he heard John's husky whisper in his ear. "Wrap your legs around me." Punk followed the order immediately, squeezing his thighs against John's waist. A protesting "no" escaped him as John let go of one of his wrists, but it changed quickly to a moan as John grasped his shaft. He pushed his hips up, the feeling of his cock sliding so wetly in John's rough fist taking him closer and closer to the edge. But he didn't fight it this time and he didn't ask for permission to come. He still trembled. Still gasped. But he let John do what he wanted. Then finally came the command he was waiting for.

"Come for me, Phil."

John squeezed his fist tight around his cock, pumping him swiftly, and Punk came hard. He threw his head back with a shout, tightening his legs even further around John, thrusting up so that their hips slammed together. As his cum poured onto his stomach in a hot rush John increased his speed again. He hit his spot repeatedly, pushing him right into another orgasm. He couldn't help it. He turned his head and bit John's arm, needing another outlet for the pleasure coursing through him. Punk rode out the waves of ecstasy as John continued to ride him. Eventually his body calmed and his muscles relaxed as all the tension drained out of him. Punk looked up at John. His Dom's jaw was clenched tight and his eyes were heavy lidded with passion.

"Thank me like a good boy."

Punk was still feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm, but he managed to whisper, "Thank you. Thank you, Sir."

John smiled at him, a lazy triumphant smile before he leaned down and kissed him. This time Punk didn't try to break their kiss. And he wrapped his arms around John as he thrust hard several more times, the heat of his release flooding into him and filling him up.

**XX**

Punk rested against John just enjoying the feeling of being held by his lover. John kissed him softly, stroking his rough hands down his sweaty back to calm him. As Punk laid there he was relaxed and peaceful. He let John take care of him, the feeling that he belonged to John reinforced with every caress. But soon the heat of John's big body, his light touches, and gentle kisses did more than calm him. He was becoming aroused, his shaft hardening. He pressed against John, grinding his cock against his hip. Punk rubbed John's chest, smoothing his hands over those hard muscles. His lover looked at him with a knowing glint in his eyes. Punk shifted, pressing his cock against John's hard stomach. "John, I'm sorry. But I need…"

John rolled Punk onto his back leaning over him. "Don't apologize. I need you just as much." John kissed his sub, stroking his tongue in slow and deep as reached down Punk's body. He slid a finger inside him, softly pumping it in and out. "I can feel my cum inside you," he whispered. "Wet. Marking you as mine." Punk moaned and rubbed his leg against him. John felt his ass clench on the finger he had inside him and groaned. "Does that excite you, Phil?" Punk nodded at him slowly, his eyes dark with passion, his face still flushed. John slid back on top of his lover. "Maybe I should fill you up again. Would you like that?" Again Punk nodded, but as always John wanted to hear him say it. "I asked you a question, Phil."

"Yes, Sir. I want to feel you come inside me."

John reached down and grasped his shaft, lining himself up to Punk's entrance. Then he pushed all the way inside him with one thrust, making him gasp. John set a steady pace, withdrawing slowly before plunging back in. "What does it mean to you, Phil, to have my cum inside you? Tell me."

"I feel like you're a part of me. Like I belong to you and I want to keep you inside me." Punk's breath was coming faster, his words coming in between moans. "Want to walk around like that in front of everyone, but only you know that you've claimed me that way." Punk paused for a moment with his eyes closed before he looked back at him. "That you're the only one who has ever claimed me that way."

A hot streak of love and possessiveness rushed through John. "Oh, Phil. I'll give you that and more. Show you in every way I can that you're mine. Because you do belong to me." John kept thrusting inside that tight heat, his earlier release giving his cock a smooth glide. "I want you underneath me every night. Want to spend every day possible with you. Want my collar back around your neck." Punk nodded and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. John let him pull him down until they were pressed chest to chest. Their lips met in a soft kiss, Punk's lips parting beneath his. John stroked his tongue inside sucking at Punk's, gently mastering his mouth. John broke their kiss and trailed his lips up that long elegant neck. He whispered all the things he wanted to do Punk in his ear. He told him how much he loved him, how much he loved his submission. Then he pushed Punk's leg up, hooking it over his shoulder. "I love how open you are for me." He fisted Punk's cock, stroking it as he pushed into him harder. "I love everything about you, Phil. Even your crazy temper." That startled a laugh from his lover before he told him back, "I love you, too." John's heart thumped to hear that from his lover while he was inside him. He stroked Punk faster and thrust into him just as quickly until he was arching off the bed and moaning. And at the first fluttering squeeze of Punk's ass on his cock, John commanded him to come, following with his own orgasm immediately after.

**XX**

For the second time that night, Punk lay wrapped in John's arms. When he was calm again he felt a slight sense of guilt. "Did I just use you?"

John brushed a soft kiss over Punk's shorn hair. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I needed this from you tonight and you gave it to me. And I feel like maybe you shouldn't have since we're not completely a couple again."

John lightly grasped Punk's chin forcing him to meet his eyes. "Phil, it's been a long time since you got what you needed from me. But that's why I'm here. It's my responsibility and my pleasure to take care of you, however you need." John brushed a thumb across his cheek. "And you have to realize I needed that too. It hasn't been easy for me to be around you, wanting to dominate you, knowing that you wanted it just as much but weren't ready to admit it to yourself."

Punk changed the subject slightly. "I still don't want this part of us to be public. I'm just not comfortable with that."

"That's okay, Phil. No one needs to know. Just like we discussed before, we'll both work to make sure we keep that part of our relationship private." John gave him a searching look. "I just hope that you aren't ashamed of how you feel."

Punk's eyes slid away from his. "I don't know. I kinda think I am."

But John wouldn't let him hide. His hand still gentle on his jaw, John turned Punk's face back to his. "I wish you wouldn't think like that. To accept that you want to be at someone else's feet and to acknowledge their dominance over you is not an easy thing to do. It takes a lot of strength to just let go and accept that part of yourself while trusting that they will take care of you the way you need them to. And I promise you there's nothing weird or wrong with the way our love for each other and the pleasure we take from one another is all tied up in my need to control you and your need to submit to me. It's not wrong. Just different than most people."

"I know. I'm starting to understand a little better. I've been reading the book you gave me."

John's brow creased in confusion. "What bo-.

"What the fuck?!"

John looked over his shoulder and saw Kofi standing there, his eyes wide with shock. They'd been so into their conversation he hadn't heard the door open. They were on top of the covers so John rolled on top of Punk to cover him. He looked back over his shoulder again. "Kofi can you wait outside for a minute?"

Kofi didn't say a word, he just backed out of the room with his eyes directed to the ceiling.

John looked back down at Punk. "I'm sorry about that."

Punk shrugged. He was blushing but his eyes sparkled with humor. "I'm sure Kofi is more embarrassed than either of us."

John laughed softly and kissed him. "You're probably right. Phil, let me stay with you tonight. I don't want you alone after all of this." Punk looked like he wanted to say yes, but he started to shake his head no. John took control of the situation. Because no way he was allowing Punk to be alone in his head after the way he'd let go and submitted to him tonight. "No. I _am_ staying with you. The only choice you have is whether it's in this room or mine."

Punk looked at him for a moment before he lowered his eyes and whispered, "Okay. Here. But let me tell Kofi."

John shook his head and got up from the bed. He pulled on his pants. "I'll talk to Kofi. And when I get back I expect to find you in this bed and under the covers." He waited for Punk's quiet "Yes, Sir." before he stepped outside to talk to Kofi.

"Hey, man. I apologize for what you saw when you walked in. I know that's probably not how you want to picture your best friend."

Kofi had a pained expression on his face. "Getting an eyeful of your naked ass was definitely not on my bucket list."

John cleared his throat and reached in his back pocket for his wallet. "Look, Punk has agreed to stay with me tonight. So why don't you take my room? You can order whatever you want and put it on my charge. Hell, I'll give you my credit card and you can buy your wife a plane ticket to come up if you want."

"So Punk agreed to stay with you, or did you order him to?"

John was surprised to hear the note of hostility in Kofi's voice. "It's not like that, Kofi."

"Then why don't you tell me how it is? Because I don't want my friend mixed up with somebody who's going to be ordering him around."

John was taken aback until he remembered Punk's remark that he should have listened to Kofi and Piper's warnings. "Kofi, maybe you and I should talk. I'd like to set your mind at ease about my relationship with Punk."

Kofi studied him for a moment before he answered. "Fine. We can talk. But for tonight I want my own room, not yours."

John handed over his credit card gladly. He had no qualms paying for three hotel rooms if that's what it took to get Kofi on his side. Punk was all that mattered. He watched Kofi walk off down the hall. He was glad that Kofi's doubts on his and Punk's relationship were out in the open. Now he could talk to him about it. That would probably help Punk be more at ease with their relationship too.

John went back into Punk's room. Punk was there in bed waiting for him, under the covers just like he'd instructed.

* * *

At that Friday's house show, Punk was in his head as he walked to the locker room. He'd had an amazing night with John on Monday. And they'd stayed up late into the night talking about everything. He realized he'd forgiven John for the things he'd done. But how did he know John wouldn't do the same again? John had the ear of the McMahon's and he could use that to determine what happened with anyone's career, not just his. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive John if something like that happened a second time. Punk sighed as he pushed the door to the locker room open. Sometimes he really wished he didn't have to analyze everything to fucking death. When he stepped into the musty, chilly room he saw Kidd, but didn't acknowledge him. But then he noticed that Kidd was standing in front of John's locker. And John's bag was open at his feet. "What the fuck are you doing?" Kidd turned around in surprise and Punk saw what Tyson had around his neck. _His_ silver **X** pendant. Punk's rage immediately surged up fast and hot, his hands clenching into tight fists. "I'm going to fucking kill you."

Kidd sneered at him. "You didn't want it; maybe you should let someone else have it."

Punk saw red and launched himself at Kidd. He slammed him into the locker and threw a fist to his gut. Kidd came up swinging with a right hook to his jaw. Punk stumbled back, but he grabbed Kidd's arm and flipped him over to the center of room,. Kidd sprang to his feet while Punk crouched down into a fighting stance. "Now I have more room to kick your ass," he said. Kidd paled for a moment and Punk took advantage of his hesitation. He struck out with his foot, catching Kidd in the back of the head. The blonde dropped to the floor and Punk jumped on him. He punched him in the face again and again, splitting his lip, bruising his cheek, blackening his eye.

Punk was aware there were people shouting and telling him to stop, but he didn't fucking care. Then he heard John's voice. He recognized his lover's touch as those big hands gripped his shoulders lightly. He finally stopped punching Kidd and allowed John to pull him back.

Several of the roster helped Tyson to stand. Everyone talked at once trying to find out what was going on. Punk didn't answer, but when he again saw his collar around Kidd's neck he broke free of John's hold. He rushed forward and slammed his knee into Kidd's stomach. As the other man doubled over in pain, Punk grabbed the dangling pendant and ripped the chain off his neck. "That's mine!" he shouted. Then he stormed out of the locker room.

* * *

John found Punk in the back leaning against one of the large crates.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken this." Punk held the silver chain out to him.

John tucked the pendant back into Punk's hand and pushed his arm down. "You hold on to that for me."

Punk blew out a frustrated breath. "I can't wear it. John, I want to be completely yours again so fucking bad. But I can't. I can't do it when I think of what you did behind my back."

John had never regretted the calls he'd made concerning Punk's career more than he did in that moment. Watching Punk so conflicted because he didn't trust him hurt him so much. It was his fault that his sub was hurting like this. John started to comfort Punk and tell him to take his time. But then he realized maybe he was going about this wrong. Maybe he shouldn't let Punk work through this on his own, but should guide him. Guide him the way a sub needed their Dom to guide them. John stepped closer to Punk and rubbed his back.

"Punk look at me." When Punk's green eyes, still stormy with anger met his, he continued on. "Baby, I'm sorry that you're hurting over this. But it's time to let this go. No more waiting to see if you trust me. Either you want my collar or you don't."

Punk's mouth turned down in an angry frown. "Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

John shook his head. "No, I'm not. But you clearly want to be mine again, Phil. The way you submitted to me the other night proves it. The way you just attacked Kidd in a fury because he had on your collar proves it. You're just stuck in your head trying to wait until everything is perfectly correct before you give in. Well you can't wait for that. Nothing will ever be perfect. I'm going to piss you off sometimes and sometimes you're going to piss me off. But we stay together through all of it. That's how relationships work." John took his room key from his wallet and pressed it into Punk's hand. "If you want to be mine again, you'll be waiting for me in my hotel room tonight."

Punk's fingers closed tightly over the plastic card. "What if I'm really not ready for that?"

John cupped the back of Punk's head and rubbed a thumb over his lips. "You're fighting against what you want, Phil. But just like I told you when we were in bed, stop fighting and just let go."

Punk looked at him for a long moment before he took a deep breath. "I need to clear my head."

John released him and stepped back. "Go ahead and do what you need to do now. But tonight I want your answer. No more waiting, Phil."

* * *

**A/N:** Uh oh! Big John Dom ain't waiting on Punk anymore. Looks like he'd better decide and quick.

So! There's only three chapters left of this here tale. I've got 'em sketched but not fully written. So if there's anything you really want to see gentle readers, please let me know as you review or in a PM and I'll see if I can work it in. I've already got calls for more time in the playroom and more of John, Punk, Randy, and Cody all hanging together.


	29. Chapter 29

Hi everyone! Thank you for your patience. Been a little occupied job hunting (blah), winning a roller derby bout (woo!) and getting mystery gifts for my birthday (eek!). Seriously, got a WM 29 shirt signed by lots of Superstars that I didn't order! It was clearly a mix-up but after an attempt to return it was ignored, I'm keeping it! I want to welcome all new readers, followers, and favoriters (that's a word now). Thank you! And a special thank you to one French reviewer. You didn't log in so I can't reply to you but your message was incredibly sweet. =)

* * *

Punk walked around the backstage area. To anyone watching him, he probably looked like he had a purpose, walking briskly to warm up. But inside he was a mess of churning anger and indecision. John had said he wasn't giving him an ultimatum, but that's exactly what it felt like. He wanted him to make up his mind and decide whether or not he wanted his collar tonight. But he needed more time! He needed to be sure. He didn't want to say yes and then back out later if he wasn't ready. He loved wearing John's collar, he knew that. But it was a bigger commitment than any he'd ever made before. He'd dived in head first with John before and he couldn't help but think that maybe this time he needed to take more time. A familiar voice calling his name interrupted his thoughts. He stopped and turned around to see Paul standing there.

"Hey Paul. What's up?"

Paul had his hands clasped behind his back as he came forward. "What's up with you Phil? You look like you've got all the demons of hell riding your back." He smiled slightly. "Well, if you believed in demons and hell."

Punk blew out a harsh breath and rubbed his hand over his shorn hair. "John wants me to make a decision tonight. One I don't know if I'm ready to make."

"Let's move somewhere a little more private," Paul said as he nodded his head to an out of the way corner. They both held their silence until they were partially hidden by trunks and equipment.

"Talk to me."

Punk looked at his friend, a man he trusted more than just about anyone else. He hadn't told Paul before all of the details of his and John's relationship, but he needed Paul's advice. "When I was with John … we were more than just lovers. He was my…" Punk's face flushed hot but he forced himself to get the words out. "…Dominant … and I was his submissive."

Paul nodded once. "Go on," he said calmly.

A frown creased Punk's forehead. "You don't look surprised."

This time Paul looked at him as if he were disappointed. "Phil, you know that I know everything that goes on in this business. John's predilections might be a secret from most people in this company and everyone outside of it, but I've known for awhile now. So you were his sub. And he wants you to be again."

"Yes. But you know what he did before. What if he pulls some shit like that again? If I put that collar on it's on. I can't just remove it because he pisses me off. But at the same time I don't want to wear it if I don't trust that we won't have those problems again."

Paul looked at him for a long moment with his discerning gaze before he spoke. "Phil, John hurt you once. But that doesn't mean he'll do it again." Paul glanced off to the side before the hazel eyes flicked back to him. "People do learn from their mistakes. And not everyone will abuse your trust and betray you again and again."

Punk sighed. "I think you're trying to say I have trust issues."

Paul snorted. "Just a tad."

Punk smiled wryly. He opened his mouth to respond but he stopped before he could say anything, surprised as shit at the question that Paul asked him.

"Did you get the book I left you?"

"_You_ left that book? How do you even know about it?"

Paul laughed. "Okay now I'm really disappointed. I've been around the block a few times. I worked at Studio 54 for heaven's sake."

Punk shook his head, putting his hands in front of his face like that would stop any stories Paul was about to tell him about him being a Dominant or submissive. "Paul, I don't think I want to hear about you and bondage. This is a strange enough conversation to have with you as it is."

Paul smirked. "Don't worry, BDSM isn't my bag. But I understand it. And honestly Phil, I'm the _best_ person for you to have this conversation with. I'm your friend, and I'll always have your best interests at heart, whether it's professionally or personally. And unlike Randy or Cody I don't have a bias to push you towards. I just want you to be happy."

Punk grinned. "Awww. Thanks, Pauly." His voice was teasing, but he really was touched by Paul's words.

"You're welcome. Now before we start braiding each others hair..."

Punk rolled his eyes.

"What did you think of the book?"

Punk told the honest truth. "I think it fucking made sense. It's crazy. With everything else in my life I have to be in control, but when it comes to John... I just want to let him take over. And it feels right to let him do it."

"Punk it sounds to me like you want to accept John's collar, you're just afraid that he might do something to hurt you. But I've never known you to avoid something because you were afraid. So why are you doing so now?"

* * *

John leaned against Punk's abandoned crate. He hoped he'd made the right decision in telling Punk that he needed to make a decision tonight. He didn't want to rush him or make him feel like it was now or never. He was gambling that the feeling he'd had that Punk needed him to guide him and give him a little push was right. John sighed. All he could do was wait and see.

Now that that conversation was over he had two more to go before the night was over. He needed to talk to Kofi and he needed to find out what the fuck Tyson had been thinking wearing Punk's collar. He straightened to head back to the locker room. He might as well talk to Kidd first, before the blows Punk had landed had his mouth too swollen to talk.

He walked back into the locker room but it was fairly empty. "Where's Kidd?" he asked Gabriel.

"He went to see the medic and get some ice for his face."

John nodded a quick thanks and headed that way. Once there he opened the door and found a small crowd gathered around Kidd, who was sitting on the cot with a pack of ice to his face. John stopped in front of the group. "Out." Everyone looked up at his hard voice and one by one they left the room. When they were all gone John crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tyson. "Why were you going through my bags and why the fuck were you wearing Punk's collar?"

Kidd gestured at his face. "Do we have to have this conversation now? I'm kind of in pain here."

"I hope you're not trying to get any sympathy from me. You deserve every bit of pain you're feeling right now. Now answer my fucking question." But Kidd didn't answer him. Instead he came back with a question of his own.

"Why are you so kind to Punk?"

"What?"

"I've seen the gifts you left for him and the way you treat him. Even after he left you twice. I guess I just don't understand it. What does he have that I don't?"

"It's not what he has that you don't. Who knows what it is that attracts one person to one another? He's just what _I_ want. But that doesn't mean that he's what everyone wants. Can you see him and Randy working out? Or him submitting to Tamina?

Kidd laughed a bit at that. "No."

"Exactly. You just have to find the one that works for you."

Kidd shrugged. "I tried with Wade. But all he did was hurt me and not in a way that I enjoyed. So I don't know, when I went into the locker room it was practically empty and I saw your bag sitting there. I wanted to see what you'd gotten him this time. But I unrolled a shirt and that pendant fell out. I know it was stupid, but I just wanted to pretend that I was the one that you cared so much about … and I put his collar on." Kidd looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I know it was dumb."

John couldn't believe he was playing Love Doctor for Tyson, but he had a feeling that it needed to be done to get Kidd to move on once and for all. "Tyson, no one likes feeling alone and unwanted. And I know this probably isn't what you want to hear, but you just have to wait until you find the one for you. You can't keep hanging around me hoping that I'll feel something for you that I don't. And just because things didn't work out with Wade doesn't mean they won't work out with the next guy. But you're not going to get a chance to find that person if you spend all your time following me around. You're starting to make me glad I don't have a pet rabbit."

Kidd gave a startled laugh. "I don't think I'm crazy enough to boil anybody's bunny."

John smiled and slapped the blonde lightly on his shoulder. "Well you were starting to make me think you were. I hate to give you platitudes about patience and waiting, but they're true. I waited what felt like forever for Punk. And now that he's mine all I can think is that all that time of loneliness was worth it."

Kidd took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Patience. Wait for the right guy. I guess I can do that. I'd probably feel better about myself that way instead of facing your rejection again and again."

"Yup. But just ah… maybe don't fuck around while you're looking for that person. Then you won't end up in situations like you did with Wade."

A hard look came over Kidd's face. "I really regret that night with Barrett."

Again John found himself saying something unexpected. "I might want to pound his face in for daring to go after Punk, but Wade's not completely a bad guy. His tastes just tend to fall a bit more on the painful end of the spectrum."

Kidd looked down at the ice pack melting in his lap. When he looked back up at John his expression was relaxed and his eyes were clear. "I'm sorry John. I've been a fucking idiot trying to come between you and Punk. But after seeing the way you are with him and the way he came after me for wearing his collar. Shit … I'd have to be blind not to see that you two are meant to be together. You won't have to worry about me trying to get involved anymore. You can even buy a rabbit if you want."

John barked his own quick laugh. He wrapped an arm around Kidd in an easy hug. "Thank you for being there for me when I needed someone. And I'm sorry that I was too self-involved to realize that by taking what you offered I was hurting you."

Tyson's eyes widened in surprise at his apology. "Thanks John. I appreciate that." Both of Kidd's arms came around him in a hug. But it was loose and friendly and Tyson broke the contact first. "You'd better go check on Punk, make sure his knuckles aren't too sore from the beating my face gave them."

John gently touched the bruise surrounding Kidd's eye. "Keep that ice on it." He smiled at Kidd once last time and left the room.

John felt good after his conversation with Kidd. He'd gone in furious and he would have never expected their talk to end with smiles and hugs. But he was glad that it had. Kidd had closure now. It had been a long time in coming, but it was what he needed. Now he was hoping that his talk with Kofi would go just as well. He checked his phone and realized Kofi would probably be back in the locker room by now getting ready to go if he wasn't gone already.

The musty air of the locker room hit him in the face as we walked back into the room. He was right, Kofi was there putting his things into his bag. John headed over to him. "Hey Kofi, is now a good time to talk?" Kofi looked up at him. Before John could say anything else he started talking.

"I saw that fight get started but had no clue what it was about until Punk yanked that chain off Tyson's neck. I remember asking Punk about that necklace before. Why it was you that took it off of him and why you kept it in your pocket when Punk had to be on camera. It's his collar isn't it?"

John nodded silently. He wasn't sure where Kofi was headed with this but he let him continue on.

"Punk flipped the fuck out on Tyson. I've never seen him so riled up over anything before … ever. Which tells me that necklace … collar means a lot to him. Which also means that you and the type of relationship you two have, and everything that collar represents means a lot to him."

John simply nodded again letting Kofi control the conversation.

"What goes on between you and Punk behind closed doors is none of my business. But Punk has looked out for me since I came to this company so I can't help but do the same for him. That's why I spoke up when I saw him changing after getting with you. I didn't understand it and I was worried."

John finally spoke up. "We both made mistakes at the beginning of our relationship. I lost my head for awhile there and overstepped my bounds."

Kofi laughed. "I can understand that. When I first started dating my wife I went a little crazy myself. Finally she told me to either get out of her space or get lost for good. I learned real quick to back up." He shook his head with a smile on his face, obviously thinking of his wife. "I guess what I'm saying is, I can understand you losing your head as you say, as long as you rein that shit in. Interfering in his career wasn't cool. But I know Punk wants to be with you. I see him watching you. His eyes follow you wherever you go. And when you walk into a room he gets this look on his face and he's totally focused on you, like nothing else going on around him matters. It's complete tunnel vision." Kofi laughed and shook his head. "Or I guess you could call it Cena vision."

John's pulse quickened. Hearing someone else acknowledge Punk's feelings for him somehow made it more real. Made him realize that if others could see it so obviously then Punk wasn't as ashamed of their type of relationship as he thought. John gave his attention back to Kofi as he finished talking.

"I want my friend to be happy and as long as you keep him that way then I don't care about anything else that goes on between you two. But if you hurt him or step out of line again … just know I can do a lot of damage with my Trouble in Paradise."

John grinned and stuck out his hand for Kofi to shake. "I promise I'll take care of him. And I won't step out of line again." They shook as though they were sealing a deal. Kofi picked up his bag to leave and John watched him go. He was surprised as hell at how that conversation had gone, even more so than he was about his conversation with Kidd. He'd expected to have to explain how their Dom/sub relationship worked and assure Kofi that he didn't want to control Punk outside the bedroom before Kofi would accept them as a couple. Maybe he ought to go back and thank Kidd for putting on Punk's collar. The fight he'd caused by doing so had helped Kofi see the depths of Punk's feelings for him. John rolled his shoulders feeling the tension he'd been carrying slowly draining away. This was a good night for clearing up old business. At the rate he was going he would walk into his hotel room and find Punk naked and kneeling on his floor, his head bowed in perfect submission. John couldn't stop the huge smile that broke across his face at the thought.

* * *

John walked up the hallway to his hotel room with his heart racing. When he reached the door he slid the key he'd just picked up from the front desk into the lock, praying that Punk would be there. But when he opened the door his heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. The room was dark, quiet … and empty. He stood there in shock. His chest was so tight that he could barely draw a breath. Punk wasn't there. He'd been so sure that Punk just needed a little push to get him to fully come back to him, but clearly that had backfired because _Punk wasn't there_.

John dropped his bags and slowly walked over to the hotel room chair. He started to sink down in defeat, but before his butt hit the cushion he sprang back up. He wasn't letting Punk go that easily. He would have to tell him why he'd chosen not to come to his room before John would accept that Punk didn't want his collar.

He strode across the room, determined to find Punk and find out what was going on his head. But when he threw open the door to leave Punk was standing there, his hand raised and clasping the plastic key as though he'd been about to slide it into the lock.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

Relief washed over him in a wave so strong it nearly crushed him. Nearly drove him to the ground so that this time he would be the one kneeling at Punk's feet. He reached out and grasped the back of Punk's neck and yanked him into a wild and frantic kiss. Punk kissed him back for a moment before he pulled away.

"John, we're in the hall."

John smashed his lips back onto his lover's but he backed up into the room, pulling Punk with him and closing the door. He finally broke their kiss so that they could breath, but he buried his face in Punk's neck and wrapped his arms around him tight. "Don't ever scare me like that again, goddamnit."

Punk pressed his body close against John's feeling a shudder run through that big frame. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I got called into a meeting that ran over and I was rushing so fast to get here I left my phone like a dumbass. I couldn't call you to tell you I was running late so I just did my best to get here as quick as I could." John's chest expanded against his as he took a deep breath. His hold finally loosened.

"And you're here because…"

Punk expected that. He knew John would want a straight forward answer from him. He stepped from between John and the door, circling around until he was behind John. John followed, pivoting on his heel so that they were facing each other again. Punk took a deep breath and then slowly sank to his knees. His talk with Paul had cleared his head and opened his eyes. He wanted to be with John and the only reason he was holding back is because he was afraid of what John might do. But he'd never lived his life in fear before and he wasn't about to start now with something as important as his relationship with this man on the line.

"I'm here because I need you John. Need you to be my Dom again. Need you to control me. All I want is to submit to you. I'll probably never fully understand why I feel like that but honestly I don't fucking care anymore. All I know is that I've felt like I really haven't been able to breathe since we've been apart. But when I'm with you and you're in control or when I'm under you and I hear your voice everything is easy. Everything with you makes sense and I can breathe freely. Anything happening outside of us is bullshit and it doesn't matter." Punk paused and took another deep breath. "I don't care about anything else. We'll figure it out like you said. I just want to be yours again."

John looked down at his sub kneeling before him. Punk's face was at ease, peaceful, that beautiful look of submission clear in his eyes. He had to swallow hard so that he could speak past the lump in his throat. "Phil … I … Shit. I think I need a minute." Punk touched his thigh lightly.

"Please, Sir. Don't say anything." His other hand rose to his throat. "Just … my collar."

John smiled softly at his sub before he walked away from him to his bag. He dug through until his fingers touched the smooth leather of Punk's collar and he drew it out of the bag. Walking back over to Punk he ordered him to stand and take his clothes off. Punk followed the order without any hesitation and when he stood before him naked John clasped the red leather strap back around his neck. The first time he'd collared Punk he'd been bursting with so many emotions. But this time all he could think was how lucky he was, and how much he loved the man standing still before him. Punk closed his eyes as John traced his finger over the four letters embedded in the leather. "Phil look at me." obeyed and John looked into those green eyes that he loved. He lightly clasped his hand around Punk's throat, rubbing his thumb over his pulse. "You're mine," he whispered.

Punk nodded slowly. "I'm yours." But then his lips curled up in a slight smile. "I'm yours. But you're mine too."

John's lips twitched in a smile as he nodded in agreement. He kissed his lover, walking him backwards to the bed. When they bumped up against the mattress John gently pushed Punk down until he lay on the bed. He stripped himself of his clothes and shoes and lay down on top of his sub. He was still amazed by what Punk had said, his heart beating hard with the knowledge that Punk was finally, totally his. He pressed his lips to Punk's lightly. "I love you, Phil."

"I love you too."

John smiled and kissed him again before he moved down Punk's body, trailing the lightest, softest kisses all along Punk's smooth skin. When he reached his lover's shaft he lapped at the pre-cum spilling from his slit. "You taste so good to me, Phil." He pressed his face against Punk's soft belly and inhaled deeply. "And you smell even better."

Punk groaned and pushed his hips up. "Sir, please…"

John knew exactly what Punk was asking. His lover didn't want to wait tonight and neither did he. He wanted to be inside his lover … his _sub_, now. But although he was throbbing to push inside of Punk's tight channel, he took care to prepare him first. He licked his way down to his entrance and pushed his tongue in. He looked up Punk's body watching as his hips rose and fell and his eyes shut tight with pleasure as John fucked his tongue in and out of him. He was still watching as he pulled his tongue away and slid one finger, then two inside his lover, stretching him wide before pressing in deep to tap against that sensitive bundle of nerves. So he saw when Punk's eyes sprang open, his lips parting on a sweet gasp.

"I'm ready, Sir!"

John smiled. "Are you rushing me, little sub?"

Punk shook his head back and forth on the pillow. "No, Sir. Not rushing. But maybe begging. _Please_. I need you."

John kept his fingers deep inside his lover and licked a long slow path up Punk's cock. He sucked him slowly, watching as Punk writhed on the bed, whispering "Please," over and over. John smiled again as he let his sub's shaft drop from his mouth. He rolled off of Punk and got up to get the lube from his bag. But Punk's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Let me do it. Let me get you ready, Sir."

John said alright, thinking that Punk was going to get the lube himself. But once he sat back down Punk leaned over him and sucked his cock into his mouth. He inhaled sharply at the sudden pleasure Punk's mouth brought him. It wasn't what he'd expected, but he wasn't going to stop it. He leaned back on his forearms, giving his sub room to get as close as he wanted. Punk sucked him slowly, his tongue stroking up and down his shaft, getting him wet. John brought his hand to the back of Punk's head, pushing down as he thrust his hips up. His cockhead bumped the back of Punk's throat, but his lover didn't gag or stop. No, he just moaned and sucked faster, trying to take even more of his cock. John groaned at how good it felt, at his sub's eagerness, at how fucking sexy Punk looked curled over his lap with his lips stretched wide around his cock and his collar around his neck. He kept thrusting up and Punk took all of him, his moans sending tingles up and down his shaft. But soon the pleasure was too much. He had to stop him because more than anything he wanted to be inside his sub.

John pulled Punk off of him. He scooted up until his back was against the headboard and pulled Punk with him so that he was straddling his lap. "You got me wet, now show me that you want to make your Dom feel even better. Ride me."

Punk licked his swollen and reddened lips and nodded. He raised his hips and reached back to grasp his cock. John groaned at the feel of Punk's hand on him, but when those sweet walls started to slide down his shaft, he had to press back against the headboard to keep himself from thrusting up hard into his lover. He let Punk ease himself down at his own pace, wanting him to be comfortable as they came together as Dom and sub for the first time in a long while. When he was seated all the way inside he smoothed his hands down Punk's warm back until he cupped his ass. Squeezing lightly he pushed him up. "Ride me, baby." Punk nodded and started moving, his breath already coming faster, soft moans already coming from his lips. John relaxed against the headboard. He watched his sub working to bring both of them pleasure, still helping him to move with his hands on his ass. And as that pleasure increased he planted his feet on the bed and raised his knees so that he could thrust up, driving his shaft deep into his lover each time Punk sank down. Punk looked at him with his face flushed, his lips parted as though he wanted to say something. "Talk to me, baby." His voice came out in a whisper husky with desire with barely a hint of command. But after only a second's hesitation, Punk obeyed and spoke up.

"I love you, Master."

John froze. Just went absolutely fucking still, unable to believe what he'd heard. "What did you say?"

Punk stopped moving too. "I said I love you, Master."

John shook his head. "Baby, you don't have to call me that. I don't want you to-."

Punk leaned forward and kissed him, cutting off his protest. "I want to. I meant it when I said I wanted to submit to you. No holding back this time. When I'm with you and we're alone you are my Master. I may not always call you that, but that's the way I feel."

John tucked his fingers beneath Punk's collar, pulling him forward again until their lips met in a whisper of a kiss. He rested his forehead against Punk's so overcome with emotion he could hardly stand it. "Phil, I love you too. Love you more than anything that has ever passed through my life." He gave Punk another soft kiss. His sub's lips parted and John stroked inside, softly curling his tongue around his lover's. But soon his sub was squirming against him and the kiss turned heated and passionate. John pulled back and stroked his hands up and down Punk's smooth thighs. "Keep going, Phil. Make us both come." Punk started moving again, rising quickly up and down on his cock. Punk gasped as he came down hard while John thrust up.

"Oh god that feels …"

John smiled and pushed his hips up again. "Feels what, baby? Tell me."

Punk moaned with pleasure before he spoke. "Feels so good. You're so deep inside me."

John continued the movement of his hips, pulling Punk down so that he kept striking that sensitive spot inside him. "You feel good too, baby. You're so tight. So hot around my cock. You fit me like you were made for me." Punk cried out and his hips jerked forward. He started to lose his rhythm as he moved, his orgasm obviously approaching. Punk tightened his legs around his hips and buried his face in his neck.

"Master, I need…"

John didn't even let his sub finish his sentence before he'd slipped his hand between their bodies to grasp his throbbing shaft. He pumped him slow but hard, squeezing his fist around that hard, slick flesh. As his own orgasm pulled his belly in tight and rose up his shaft he turned his lips to Punk's ear, softly telling him to let go. To come for him. Punk gave a choked cry before he lifted his head and kissed him again. The second their lips met John thrust up and released deep inside his lover, Punk's release spilling down into his hand at the same time. They were both shaking as they came together, moaning into each others mouths as the pleasure swept over them both. Finally their bodies eased, but Punk still moved on him slightly. And John stayed inside him, enjoying the soft squeezing of Punk's inner muscles on his still throbbing cock. He wrapped his arms around his sub tightly, holding him so close that he felt Punk's heart beating against his chest. Their lips had stayed together through their climax and they were still that way now. They kissed again and again with all the love and passion they felt, only breaking for whispered exchanges of I love you.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** Sigh… They made it. Thanks to Paul's vast world knowledge and Tyson's thievery strangely enough. Lol. What do you guys think of Punk calling John Master? Unexpected or necessary?

Repeat song was _No One_ by Alicia Keys. That piano made it strangely easy to write once I actually sat down to do it.

*And it occurred to me that some of you may not get the bunny reference. Lol. It's from an 80's movie, Fatal Attraction. watch?v=ecWhXP2jM28


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing and know no one from the WWE. Although I now have slightly contaminated pieces of John Cena's DNA.

**Warning**: Slash, cursing, mentions of country music. Kidding! I love country music.

* * *

The next morning sunlight streamed into the hotel room. Punk lay against John's chest. He was breathing hard, his body still tingling with delicious aftershocks of pleasure. "John…" He licked his lips, took a deep breath and tried again. "John, that was …" he trailed off, both because he still couldn't catch his breath and because he couldn't think of a word to describe how good it had just been between them. John laughed, a low sexy rumble that had him pressing to get even closer to his Dom.

"What can I say? I missed you." He swept a hand down his back to cup his ass. "Missed dominating this beautiful body."

"Maybe I should leave more often if that's what will be waiting on me when I get back."

John's arms came around him in a sudden tight hug. "You may not run away from me again."

Punk heard both the command and worry in John's voice and responded immediately. "I was only joking." John pulled him up so that he was sprawled over his big body and looking down into his deep blue eyes.

"Phil, we are going to argue, going to fight. With our natures there's no way to avoid that. And truthfully I don't want you to roll over for me on anything. But you cannot cut out on me when you're angry. I won't allow it. You're mine and you will stay with me. We'll fight it out together."

A shiver chased down Punk's spine at John's possessive tone and words. Who would have ever thought that he would want to be with someone who topped him so completely? Maybe that's why he'd bounced from relationship to relationship. He hadn't been satisfied before like he was now. But he did need to make something clear to John. "I won't run away from you again, John. I promise. But sometimes I'm going to need some space. I just need to get out and run to clear my head."

"That's fine. As long as you come back to me."

Punk smiled before he leaned down and kissed those full lips. "I'll always come back to you, John. I don't want to be anywhere else." John's eyes filled with both love and heat at his declaration so he wasn't surprised when that big hand palmed the back of his head and pulled him down into slow deep kiss.

* * *

Monday afternoon Punk headed over to catering. He tried to keep from smiling like an idiot but from the raised eyebrows he was getting he knew he was failing. But shit, he had a lot to smile about. He was the WWE Champion, he loved his job, he had great friends and those he'd adopted as family. He had a partner who loved him and satisfied a need in him that he'd never even known he had. And John definitely knew how to satisfy him physically as he'd recently rediscovered on John's tour bus and in hotel rooms this weekend. But he wanted some private time with his lover in a room that wasn't moving or surrounded by hundreds of others. He grabbed a plate and smiled again as he thought that his birthday was coming up. He knew exactly what he was going to ask for from his Dom.

"Hey, Punk how's it going?"

He looked up from fixing his plate when he heard the raspy voice. "Ryback, what's up?"

"Just wanted to come over and say I'm stoked to work with you in this angle."

Punk looked at Ryback sharply, the start to this conversation had shades of a similar talk with AJ. But Ryback wasn't gay? Was he?"

"Yeah, I was disappointed I had to miss out on my chance last time."

Ryback had been injured right when he'd taken over Nexus so he hadn't interacted with him as much as he did the rest of the group. He shrugged. "Injuries suck man. That's why you gotta grab every opportunity you can and do the most with it. You never know when your time will be up."

Ryback stared at him for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah… grab an opportunity." He cleared his throat but his words came out raspy as ever. "So, Punk would you like to grab a bite to eat sometime?"

Punk couldn't believe where this was going. Had the thick-necked goon not heard any of the locker room gossip about him and John? He tried to stop the oncoming train of awkward before it went totally off the tracks. "We're about to eat right now," he said, gesturing with his plate. "So if you wanted to go over our feud we could do that right here. That's all we need to discuss, right?" But Ryback didn't catch on.

"Yeah, we are. But I meant some place private. Outside of work. I mean we could discuss work if you want, but if the opportunity comes up to get a little more personal …"

Ryback trailed off and stiffened just as Punk felt an arm slide around his waist.

"Fuck off."

Ryback looked like he was about to give a slow ponderous protest but Punk shook his head. "Don't even. Cena likes to think that he owns me. I go along with it so that he's not constantly getting into scuffles with fangirls, Divas, and meatheads. Can't have our goody two shoes poster boy getting a reputation as a brawler, now can we?"

Ryback looked at him with his brows creased, probably trying to figure out if the meathead crack had been directed at him. He was about to clarify that yes it was when John spoke up again.

"He's only partially kidding. But he _is_ mine. Now fuck _off_."

Ryback pushed his shoulders back, doing a little posturing before he sniffed and walked off. Punk watched him go for a moment before he turned to face John. John watched Ryback watched off for just a few seconds longer before his eyes flicked back to his.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have done that."

Punk raised an eyebrow. "Why not? I told you I don't mind your possessiveness as long as you don't go off the deep end with it. Besides …" He looked down and then back at John from beneath his lashes, a smile tilting the corner of his mouth. "…I am yours aren't I?"

John growled low, "You're damn right you are." Then he yanked Punk forward into a fierce kiss. John heard what sounded like a plate crash to the ground and somebody exclaimed, "Holy shit!" But he didn't care. He kept kissing his sub, practically bending him backwards and staking his claim in front of everyone there. When he released him Punk looked at him in a daze and licked his lips.

"Jesus John…"

John just smiled.

Punk shook his head at John. When he noticed the dead silence in the room he turned to look at the crowd openly staring at them. He glared at each one of them. "That's right motherfuckers! John and I are a couple. A big _gay_ man-lovin' couple! Any of you got a problem with that? I didn't think so. Half of you are gay or bi anyway and the other half are a roll-up pin away from _experimenting_." He saw Cody leaning against Randy, both of them shaking with quiet laughter but he didn't stop. "Well if any of you were thinking about coming between us you might as well fold up those plans and move on to the next territory. John and I are bonded in a way most of you can never comprehend." He started to reach under his shirt for his pendant. "He's my do-." John's hand slapped over his mouth shutting him up before he could go any further.

"What Punk means to say is that I'm his Doctor of Love. Corny I know, but I guess I'm rubbing off on him." He started dragging Punk backwards still with his hand over his mouth. "You all enjoy your lunch and let's have a great show tonight!" John heard a dozen conversations break out as they rounded the corner, but they were practically drowned out by the howls of laughter that he recognized as Randy and Cody.

When they were out of the catering area Punk bit his palm. John released him only to collapse against the wall laughing. "What the hell was that?" he choked out.

Punk shrugged. "I figured I might as well make it clear and get it out in the open. Better than having ten people a day coming up to me trying to get some little tid-bits for locker room gossip."

John's laughter died down but he was still smiling. "And you don't think that kiss did that?"

Punk raised his chin. "Couldn't help it. I'm an orator. I have to use words to make sure I get my point across."

John reached out and grabbed Punk's hand, pulling him into a hug. "You are insane. And I love it."

A stricken expression crossed Punk's face. "Oh, fuck. I _am_ insane! I almost outed you as a Dom! I'm sorry, John."

John kissed Punk lightly. "Don't worry about it. I stopped you didn't I? But I guess you aren't as ashamed about being a submissive as you thought if you were ready to shout it out to the whole company."

Punk smirked. "I guess not. You've changed me, Cena. But not as much as you like to think. I would _never_ refer to you as my Doctor of Love. Come up with a better cover up next time."

John laughed before kissing him again. "I'll work on it."

* * *

"Before we go out there I want to remind you two of what I said at RAW 1000. I don't want a single peep about you two leaking to the public."

Punk, Vince, and John were at the gorilla about to close out the night with the contract signing for Hell In A Cell. Ryback stood off to the side alone. Punk wasn't sure but it looked like he was pouting. He shrugged unconcernedly at Vince's comment. "Don't worry about it. None of the guys in the back would break the old Carny code and blab about the truly private stuff. The dirt sheets get what we feed them and not much else."

"It hasn't happened yet, but there's a first time for everything."

This time John interjected. "C'mon Vince let it go. Fangirls already have their slash couples they ship anyway. They're already convinced we're a couple. If anything were to leak I'd just go out there and acknowledge it while mocking it so much it's clear that it's just silly rumors."

Punk looked at him with his head tilted to the side. "You're really good at doing that."

John grinned. "Thank you."

Vince threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine! Just … use common sense."

John replied with a polite "of course" while he gave a mocking "Aye, aye, Cap'n!" So it was no surprise that Vince's brown eyes landed on him with a glare.

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Because I make your trite contract signings interesting?"

Vince just glared harder. Over the sound system the sound of an electric guitar came on, growing from a whisper to the blaring obnoxiousness that was Vince's theme. Punk dared to make a shooing motion.

"Better get on out there, boss."

John snorted after Vince left. "Why do you have to poke at him?"

Punk grinned. "I'm just getting him in the right mindset to show how much he hates me on camera."

John raised an eyebrow. "I don't think he has far to go to reach that point."

Punk just laughed. He might make Vince's blood boil on an almost daily basis, but they'd finally reached a level of mutual respect.

**XX**

In the ring John didn't have any problem keeping from making corny jokes. He was actually really disappointed that it wouldn't be him versus Punk at Hell In A Cell. But although his elbow had healed up nicely, it wasn't ready for the stress that such a match would put on it. So even though it felt like he was swallowing glass as he said the words, he gave his endorsement to Ryback, even going so far as to start his moronic, "Feed Me More," chant. He got out of the way as Ryback, who wasn't quite ready to be on a live mic, used actions to show how much he was looking forward to the match. Ryback slammed Punk into the table and then lifted him up for the Shell Shock. Even though his boyfriend was about to take a rough bump John had to hold back a smile. His mock-terrified facial expression and hand waving were too hilarious. He winced as Punk crashed to the ground but he still didn't feel bad for wanting to laugh. If Punk were sore from that fall he'd just make him feel better later.

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

John paid their cover before they headed inside. "It won't be that bad. Just because it's a club in Nashville, doesn't mean that they play _all_ country music. Besides, Randy & Cody wanted to offer their congratulations that we finally managed to stop with all the drama and get back together."

Punk didn't say anything to that. He just followed John into the club where a great deal of the roster had gathered after RAW. Randy smirked at Punk as they approached the group.

"Well look who's arriving together. Should I stand up and do a slow clap? No, maybe I should wait for you to make another impassioned speech before I get it started."

"Shut up, Orton."

John sat down, casually resting his arm against the empty seat back next to him. Punk sat down and John lightly touched his back once before moving his arm away.

"Yeah, Randy shut up. I don't want to have to tell the story of how you'd call me late at night, hiding your worry behind a mouthful of curse words because Cody wouldn't take your calls."

Punk turned to John with a gleeful look on his face. "Tell! Did he actually emote? Was his voice rough from holding back tears?"

John threw back his head and laughed as Randy glared. "There might have been-." He cut off with a wince as Randy slammed his fist into his chest.

"I can't believe I helped you get back with this smart-ass by going to get his presents. Change the fucking subject."

Cody protested. "Hold on! I think I might want to hear how the Great Viper missed me so much you cried into the phone."

Randy cut his eyes at Cody. "I did not cry."

Cody's face fell, a small pout on his mouth. "You didn't miss me?"

"Damnit, Cody! You know I missed you but I didn't cry."

Cody held his pout, his eyes wide as he stared up at Randy until finally Randy gave a rough sigh. "Alright … maybe my throat got a little tight while I was talking to John." That erased the kicked puppy look from Cody's face. Randy rolled his eyes before sharing look of love with his young sub.

Punk lips twitched but he didn't dare laugh. He leaned over to John. "Man, that young'un knows how to manipulate Randy."

John looked at Punk. "Don't you even think of trying the same thing." He knew his warning fell on deaf ears at Punk's devilish grin. But he didn't mind. He looked forward to Punk's teasing and brattiness because he knew he'd enjoy bringing him back in line.

Punk saw Cody trying to get his attention. When he made eye contact the younger man brushed his fingers over the silver pendant around his neck and raised his eyebrow in question. Punk nodded and pulled his own pendant from under his collar. Cody grinned but whatever he said Punk couldn't make it out. He poked at John and got him to trade seats with Cody so they could talk over the music.

"So you're done being a drama queen?"

Punk snorted. "After that display you just put on you're calling me a drama queen?"

Cody laughed. "Teasing my Dom is fun. Besides he needs it as tense as he's been with work lately. But seriously. I'm glad you two managed to work things out. How's it feel to wear that collar again?"

"Better than the first time. That time we had our talk in your hotel room I knew I wasn't ready to call John Master. I should have talked to him about it – should have realized that meant I wasn't completely ready to submit to wearing his collar." He looked over at John feeling the connection that bound him to the big man tighter than any chain ever could. "But this time I have no hang-ups. I know I won't be addicted to going into sub space and I trust John not to interfere where he shouldn't."

Cody grinned. "That's good to hear, man. Glad I didn't have to go all rom-com on you two and trap you in an elevator or on a boat with no oars or something to make you guys talk."

"What the hell have you been watching," Punk asked with a dry laugh.

Cody laughed too. "I've pretty much gone through all the cartoons on my Netflix so I gave some chick flicks a try." Suddenly Cody's pale blue eyes were sharp and steady on his, the look in them mature beyond his years. "If you think you're having any trouble in your submission and don't want to talk to John about it, come and find me. You know by now that being in a D/s relationship can sometimes be rough. Don't try to get through it on your own."

"Thanks, man I appreciate that," Punk said, holding out his hand. Cody grasped his palm and they exchanged a quick shake. "Now move back to your seat so I can needle John that this place has played five country songs in a row."

"Fine, but I don't think he's gonna be able to convince the DJ to play any Punk Rock in this place."

John sat back in his original seat. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing. Just a little bottom layer bonding."

John shook his head at Punk but refrained from pulling him in for a kiss like he wanted to do. They settled in to talk with their co-workers enduring their good natured teasing about them being together.

**XX**

They'd been at the club for a little over an hour. Punk was just about to ask John if he was ready to go when he felt his fingers brush the back of his neck. Punk glanced over and smiled. "Remember what Vince said."

"Forget, Vince. I want my submissive. Now."

Punk looked around. "Umm… we're in public."

John smiled, slow and wicked. "Exactly. And you owe me I believe."

Punk's breathing quickened as he remembered the promise he'd made to John to let him fuck him somewhere public wherever he chose. He swallowed hard. "Is this your choice?" John nodded. Punk bit his lip before he nodded too. "Okay."

John stood up and headed to a door behind where their group had been sitting. After a few moments, Punk got up and followed with his heart racing. He didn't see the silent message John eyeballed to Randy when John passed him and he didn't see the tall man move his chair to block the door once it closed behind him.

Once inside Punk looked around him. They were in a small inner courtyard. The area was filled with stone benches and potted plants. Mock wrought iron balconies were mounted to the walls with more plants and flowers spilling between their curled bars. John was waiting for him in the center of the room. "How did you know this was here?"

"I've been to this club before and a couple of us came in here when we were trying to get away from some overzealous fans."

"Oh." Punk tried to keep the note of jealousy out of his voice but John heard it anyway.

"Relax. I promise you I've never done things to anyone in here like what I'm about to do to you."

He came closer and slid his hands under his shirt. Punk did relax as John's hands slowly stroked up his back and his lips settled on his in a gentle kiss. He could hear the music playing from the club, but it was muted, as were the sounds of people talking. He knew they were surrounded by people, but as John nibbled at his lip ring that faded to the back of his mind. John's kisses slowly turned from gentle to wild and passionate, his Dom mastering his tongue with his own. Punk gave up all control to John, letting him set the pace. He pressed close to John as his hands on his body and tongue in his mouth sent arousal streaking through him, his shaft swiftly hardening .

When John pulled back Punk stood there breathing hard. He had to mentally restrain himself from just leaping at John to feel those full lips on his once more. John's hands skimmed up his sides pushing his shirt up as they went. Punk raised his arms allowing him to pull the shirt up over his head. John pulled his own shirt off, baring his broad chest and thick arms to Punk's gaze. He reached for John, wanting to feel those hard muscles, but his Dom shook his head. John slowly unbuckled his belt and Punk watched, hot with anticipation, as he dragged the leather through his belt loops, one by one, moving at a pace designed to drive him crazy. Finally the belt was off and at John's low command he put his arms out, wrists together. John looped the belt around his wrists, tugging tight to make sure he was securely restrained. Then he pulled him forward sharply and slammed his lips onto his. Punk opened up for John's thrusting tongue, moaning as John bit and sucked at his lip ring. John pulled back again and Punk looked into his lover's eyes, almost colorless in the dim room. He was lost for this man. He would do anything for him. And from the smile John gave him as he tied the loose end of the belt to one of the balcony frames overhead, he knew it.

Punk stood there with his arms tied over his head completely at John's mercy, just the way he liked. The way they _both_ liked. The pulsing music of the club played on as John slid his hands into the waistband of his shorts, slowly pushing them down. Any concern he might have had about being naked and restrained in public went right out of his head when John's big rough hand closed around his erection. His Dom squeezed him lightly and started pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

"I knew you'd be hard and wet for me."

Punk moaned softly, his hands twitching in the leather that bound them together. John's breath ghosted over his skin, his lips almost but not quite touching him as he spoke, his voice rough with arousal.

"Tell me why, Phil. Tell me why your cock is thick and straining in my hand, your sweet pre-cum all over my fingers."

Punk groaned. This was the one time words failed him. He could barely think to string together a coherent sentence with John pressed tight to his back and his rough hand pumping him so slowly. But John wouldn't let him avoid answering. He squeezed his hand firmly around his shaft, the command clear in his tone this time.

"Tell me."

"I'm hard because…"

John interrupted him with a low whisper in his ear, his tongue curling around his sensitive earlobe. "And wet."

Punk dropped his head back against John's shoulder. "Oh god … I'm hard … and wet … because of you. The things you do to me …" Punk had to bite back a moan as John's naked cock nudged at his ass "… the way you make me feel. I love it. I'll let you do whatever you want, tie me up, fuck me … wherever you want." He gasped sharply as John suddenly pushed inside him. "I'm yours, Sir. You make me feel -." The rest of his sentence was lost because John grabbed his chin to whip his head around and kiss him fiercely. He whimpered into John's mouth as his Dom stroked inside him while still pumping his cock. There was pain from not being stretched first. But he didn't care. He welcomed the sweet burn, the sensation heightening the intensity of everything he was feeling. His eyes drifted shut as pleasure coursed through every nerve, muscle, and bone in his body.

"Spread your legs for me, baby."

He did as John asked, bending over slightly and gripping the belt that held him so tight the leather bit into his palm. John's hand trailed down from his chin, lightly running along his spine until he gripped his hip. John held him steady, fucking into him hard and deep. And Punk just relaxed and took him in. Just let John ride him as he pleased. To give himself up to John like this felt … perfect. Fucking perfect. John pressed the side of his face to his, licking the sensitive skin beneath his jaw.

"Think of all those people out there. The strangers who saw you walk in and thought you were someone they'd like to fuck. The fans who see you damn near naked every week and wish you were theirs. None of them know that they can't have you, because you're already mine. That I have you here in this room, fucking you, even though we're surrounded by hundreds of people."

Punk moaned desperately, his cock incredibly hard at John's words. He damn near felt like he could come just from the sound of John's heavy breathing in his ear and his rough whispers alone.

"None of them know, baby. None of them know that you wear my collar and that you submit to me so sweetly … so perfectly."

John's heart pounded as he stroked deep inside his lover. The trust that Punk so willingly gave him to be with him in public like this humbled him. Made him determined to love and protect Punk with everything he had. He sucked a light kiss on his sub's neck, just barely remembering not to leave a fresh passion mark on his skin. "You're so right for me, Phil. I love you so much." Punk answered him breathlessly.

"I love you too."

John squeezed his hand around a slim hip bone before caressing that soft smooth thigh. He slipped his hand between Punk's legs, cupping his heavy sac. Punk cried out and pushed back against him. "Do you like that?"

"Fuck yes."

John laughed. He kept squeezing and stroking and thrusting until Punk was cursing softly and pushing his ass back to meet every one of his thrusts. Those tight walls started squeezing John's cock, while the throbbing cock in his hand grew hotter and slicker. He knew his sub was ready for release. But like a good boy he didn't ask for it. Punk let him control the pace even though he trembled and twisted in his restraint. And that deserved a reward. John trailed his lips up Punk's neck to whisper in his ear. "My sweet sub. Come for me, baby."

Punk was shaking, his skin tight, his cock aching for release. Every thrust of John's thick shaft inside him stretched him, tapping against that sensitive spot deep inside that sent tingles all the way to his fingertips. But he held his orgasm back, just soaking in the pleasure, waiting for his Dom's command. When it came, his orgasm crashed over him in a wave of pleasure from head to toe. He cried out, his hips stuttering forward, pushing his erection through the big fist that gripped him so powerfully. John kept pumping, wringing every sweet gasping drop of pleasure from him that he could until he sighed and relaxed.

His body was still throbbing with sensation when John started slamming in to him, the deliberate movements of before replaced by the rapid thrusts that signaled his Dom was about to come. Suddenly John cursed and pulled back. Punk knew he was about to withdraw. He protested sharply, forcing his words out between his heaving breaths.

"Don't! Stay. Shorts … dark … _please_."

John turned his face to his, kissing him roughly. He pushed deep inside him once more. As their tongues tangled together in a passionate kiss John groaned and wrapped his arm around him in a hard embrace. His cock pulsed his release and Punk welcomed the liquid heat that filled him up. So many things in his relationship with John were different from any he'd had before. Loving the way John came inside him, marking him as his, was one of them.

John released Punk from the belt that bound him and his sub sagged back against his chest. John wrapped his arms around him and kissed his neck. "Thank you for this. Thank you for trusting me." Punk gripped his arm tightly.

"You're welcome, Sir."

* * *

"Your birthday is Friday. What do you want?"

They were backstage at RAW sitting in the monitor bay. Punk turned in his chair to face John. "Ugh. Are you gonna be one of those lazy boyfriends that can't choose a gift on their own?"

"No. In fact I already have your gift. But that doesn't mean I can't also get you something that you especially want."

"Well in that case…" Punk pursed his lips and pretended to think. "What do I want … let's see…" He tapped his finger on his chin and then sat straight up in his chair as though suddenly inspired. "I know! I want to spend the next few days at your house. Just you and me alone until we have to hit the weekend house show circuit."

John smiled. "Is this a birthday gift for you or for me?"

"Mostly for me. _Maybe_ a little bit for you. But that's only one thing I want. I'll tell you the other later."

John shook his head and grinned. "I can definitely make that happen. We'll just have to clear our schedules."

Punk grinned wickedly. "Mine is already cleared."

Their first day of their mini-vacation they were relaxing in John's bed. They hadn't gotten up to eat yet but John decided he didn't want to wait to give Punk his gift. He reached into his nightstand and pulled out Punk's present. Punk's face was equal parts curious and excited as John handed him the small box wrapped in red paper. "I know your birthday isn't until Friday, but I want you to have the chance to enjoy your gift while we're here."

Punk took the box and ripped the paper off with all the enthusiasm of a hyper eight year old. But when he opened the box he looked at John confused. "A key? Is this like the key to your heart? Cuz that's corny even for you."

John laughed and pulled the key out of the box showing him the paper beneath it. It was a deed. "It's the key to my, well I guess I should say _your_ Mustang Boss."

Punk's eyes widened almost comically. "You're giving me your car? But you love that fucking car!"

John leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I love you more. And every time I walk past it I think of you. The way you gave yourself to me on that car was amazing. But when we were apart I really believed that times like that were what caused you to leave me. But then when you came to take care of me I asked you to think of something that aroused you. You could have thought of anything, but that was the first thing that popped into your head. That eased my mind. Made me realize that you do love what we have together. So to me that car represents so much of us. And I want you to have it so you know how much I love you."

Punk looked at him for a long moment before he leaned over and rested his forehead against his. "John, I love you more than Superman loves Lois. Love you more than all the comic books in the world."

John hugged Punk to him tight before he gave him a smirk. "Wait, I thought I was Superman? I guess that makes you Lois."

Punk rolled his eyes. "Funny. Fine. I love you more than Northstar loves Kyle." A huge grin broke out on Punk's face. "This is the raddest gift ever." He clenched the key in his fist and threw the covers back. "Let's go get breakfast. I'm driving."

* * *

John smiled to himself as he gently rubbed Punk down with a big fluffy bath towel. His sub was so happy and satisfied he reminded him of a lazy cat purring in the sun on a windowsill. All he needed were canary feathers sticking out of his mouth to make the image complete. For three days they'd done nothing but laze around, watching TV, and eating Chunky Monkey ice cream. Oh, and making love of course. He'd taken Punk with the tender touch of a lover, the commanding strength of a Dom and everything in between. This time he'd been careful not to indulge himself too much in the wonderful gripping heat of his sub, determined to keep his promise to himself to never again hurt Punk like he had when he'd first visited. But there were plenty of other ways to make them both feel good, as he'd just demonstrated in the shower.

Finished toweling Punk off, he threw the towel on the hook and put his collar back around his throat. Once the lock clicked closed Punk gave a deep sigh. John nuzzled Punk's neck, kissing the soft skin just above his collar. "You have no idea what it does to me knowing how much you love wearing my collar."

Punk turned and faced him. "Probably exactly what it does to me every time I see you look at me wearing it with that possessive look on your face."

John brushed his fingers across the leather strap. "Probably." He pulled Punk into the bedroom to dress. They'd each just thrown on fresh tees and shorts when John's phone rang. "It's Vince." He tossed the phone back on the bed, prepared to ignore the call.

"Go ahead and take it. Just don't let him talk you into leaving early."

"As if he could," he said with a snort. He sat down on the bed to take the call. He went to pull Punk into his lap but Punk shook his head and resisted. He had a slightly nervous expression on his face before he took a deep breath and left the room. John frowned as he watched Punk leave. _What was that about?_ He rushed through his conversation with Vince. He didn't know exactly what his boss was asking him but he heard the words publicity appearance and Toronto so he just kept saying _No_ over and over again until Vince gave up.

He disconnected the call and went to find his lover. He didn't have to go far. He stepped out into the hall and there Punk was. He was kneeling on the floor. Naked. In front of the play room door.

"I want to try again, John."

His breath slammed out of his chest. He definitely hadn't been expecting this. He hadn't even planned to bring up the play room this trip. He'd wanted to wait to make sure that Punk was fully comfortable as his submissive before they went there again. "We don't have to do this now, baby. I don't want you to feel rushed into anything."

"I know you're worried that I'll freak out again. But I promise you I won't." Punk held up the key to the room. "Please, Sir. It's the other thing I wanted for my birthday."

John knew Punk was manipulating him. But he didn't mind. If Punk cared enough about it to bring it up like this then it must be important to him. He stalked forward already in Dom mode. He put his hand on Punk's head pushing it back and forcing eye contact. "If we do this you will tell me immediately if anything is wrong. And if I say we stop, we stop. Do you understand?"

Punk licked his lips and nodded, an eager light shining in his eyes. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now get up and open the door."

Punk fit the key into the lock with shaking fingers and pushed the door open. John followed him into the room, so close behind him the soft cotton of his t-shirt and shorts brushed his naked skin. John flicked on the lights and Punk got his third look at their play room. The first time he'd been in awe of what John had built for them. The second time when he'd peeped in on his own, he'd wondered if he'd ever come into this room again. This time it felt like he was entering his space. His and John's. He came to a stop in the center of the room and John circled around in front of him.

"Hmm… what should I do to you tonight?"

Punk stood there quietly. Patiently. He knew however John chose to play tonight would only bring them both pleasure.

John stroked his thumb over the nipple rings that he'd put in the morning after they'd arrived in Tampa. He gave him a slow lazy smile. "I know one thing I want to do." John went to the cabinet that held his toys.

Punk wasn't surprised to see the flash of silver that was the chain to his nipple rings. But that wasn't all John pulled out. He selected a cock ring. A thick dildo. Punk's breath came a little faster and his shaft started to harden. John walked over to the wall that held his whips and paddles. He chose a whip with a long thin tail. John came back to him and told him to put his arms out, palms up. He obeyed and John began laying his toys in his hands one by one. He started to get a closer look at them but a sharp command from John stopped him.

"Eyes on me! You will keep your eyes on me at all times. Is that clear, sub?"

Arousal streaked through him, his cock coming fully erect in a rush. "Yes, Sir." He kept his eyes on John's. He didn't look down when the whip was draped across his arms. And he didn't look down when John attached the Y-shaped chain to his nipple rings giving them a firm tug. John smirked at him, his eyes smoldering as he started pulling him across the room by his chain. He followed of course, still holding the items John gave him, going just slow enough that there was sweet painful tension in the chain.

When they reached a table that came up to about the top of John's thighs they stopped. John took all of the toys out of his hands and ordered him to lie down. Once he was settled on his back, his head on the leather pad on one end of the table, John went around to his feet. He grabbed his calves, pulling him down until his ass was at the end of the table and pushed his legs up until his knees were bent. Then he felt leather shackles close around ankles. Punk took a deep breath, waiting. He knew John was going to shackle his wrists as well and he did. He laid there with his arms and legs bound to the table, gooseflesh rising on his skin as John's palms skimmed along his body.

"I love seeing you like this, Phil. Naked. Restrained." He stroked a single finger up his shaft. "Aroused. Just for me."

Punk swallowed hard and nodded with his eyes wide and still locked on John's. He watched as John bent and licked down his thigh with slow teasing laps of his tongue. When he reached his groin he swiped his tongue once across his cock and Punk's hips jerked up. John's hand firmly gripped his thigh.

"Stay still. Don't move unless I say you can."

Punk nodded again, forcing himself to stay still as John went to work on him. His Dom sucked his shaft into his mouth, going so softly and slowly it was almost as if he couldn't feel it. But he did. The silky glide of John's lips along his shaft stole the breath from his body as he gasped with pleasure. Too soon though, John released him. Before the whine of protest could cross his lips John's tongue, hot and wet dipped inside him. His fingers twitched but he didn't move in any other way as John fucked his tongue in and out of him. But he was breathing hard, his chest pumping, as moan after moan slipped up his throat. John groaned, the sound vibrating against his skin.

"You're so hot, baby."

Restrained as he was Punk couldn't do anything but lay there as John took his tongue from him and replaced it with a finger. Then two, pumping and scissoring them inside him. John brought the dildo to his mouth, and without being asked he opened up and sucked it, laving his tongue along it to get it wet. When John was satisfied he pulled the toy from between his lips, trailing it down his body, and pushing it inside him slowly. The toy wasn't as big as John, but Punk still felt stretched and full.

John straightened. He left the toy inside him, picked up his chain, and took the whip off his belly.

"You loved the flogger. Let's see how this makes you feel."

John flicked the whip and the tail landed with a sting on his thigh. Punk gasped at that initial pain, but the hot sensation it left behind felt fucking amazing. His eyes were locked on John's as he flicked the whip again and again. He strained to keep his body still, though he was desperate to rise up and meet each of those sharp strikes. Every time he heard it swish through the air his cock pulsed with anticipation. Every where it landed on his body burned white-hot. John keeping the chain taught so that his nipples were constantly stimulated. Every so often he would yank on it, sparking pleasure-pain in that sensitive flesh. And he kept flicking the whip against him. Still he watched John. Saw his Dom's jaw clench tight with tension. Saw his eyes darken with passion. Saw his nostrils flare as though he were trying to take in the scent of arousal in the room.

Suddenly John stopped. He lay the whip back across his stomach and dropped the chain. Then he undressed slowly and deliberately, making Punk feel as though he were watching a show just for him as he pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his shorts and boxers down his strong thighs. John stroked a hand across his belly.

"Such pretty marks."

He bent and sucked a stinging patch of reddened skin into his mouth. Punk didn't mean to but he couldn't help it. John's mouth sucking so hard on that sensitive spot hurt in such a delicious way that he gasped and thrust his hips up.

John jerked his head up and looked at him. "I thought I told you not to move?"

Punk closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

John's voice was hard. "Just like you can't help taking your eyes off me without my permission?"

Punk's eyes snapped open. _Fuck._

He felt his Dom's fingers brush against his ass. Then there was a buzzing sound. Apparently, the toy inside him was also a vibrator. Punk groaned but this time he didn't move. A thick drop of pre-cum slipped from his cock head but he didn't need to worry about coming without permission because John slid a cock ring down his shaft. And it vibrated too.

"Oh god. Please, Sir."

John picked up the whip again and walked around the table until he was standing behind his head.

"Please what?"

But Punk didn't answer. He didn't know what he was begging for. And even if he did he wouldn't have been able to get the words out. His mind was completely filled with the pleasure the two vibrating toys sent coursing through his body and keeping his body still in the midst of all of it.

"That's what I thought. You just lay there like a good little sub." John's hand brushed his jaw. "Open up, baby. You have permission to move."

Punk parted his lips and John's hot shaft slid between them. He started to suck immediately, moving his head back and forth to take all of John. He was grateful that John had given him permission to move because that whip sang through the air again and struck his thigh and he jerked in reflex. He moaned, trying to let John know he wanted more by pushing his hips up. And John understood. The whip landed on him everywhere; his chest, his thighs, his cock. It burned his skin where it touched until his entire body was one mass of shaking, aroused heat. He screamed in sweet pain around John's shaft as the whip landed on the tender flesh of his sac. His head jerked back so that even more of John's cock slipped down his throat. John groaned and flicked him there again getting the same reaction. Punk trembled in ecstasy. He writhed and jerked on the table as the sting of the whip and the vibration of his Master's toys sent every cell in his body into pleasure overload. His hands twitched in his shackles wanting to touch John or fuck touch himself, touch _anything_ to anchor himself. To keep from shattering into a billion pieces. But he couldn't. He just had to lay there as the feelings grew more and more intense until he thought he would explode. Yet somehow he managed to keep pleasuring his Dom, sucking him hard, dragging his tongue along the thick vein running along his shaft.

But with a deep groan John pulled himself out of his mouth the whip falling still at his side. He was breathing just as hard as Punk was, his chest visibly rising and falling. There was a metallic clink as John picked up the neglected chain that lay on his chest and went back to the foot of the table. The vibrator in his ass stopped just before John pulled it out of him and dropped it on the floor.

"I have to be inside you baby. Right now." Then he pushed his cock deep inside him with one stroke.

Punk cried out, then bit his lip as he fought to keep his eyes from drifting shut.

John wrapped the chain around his fist, tugging slightly as he watched his sub. Sweat dampened his skin, making the tattoos on his chest and arms stand out even more. His lips were parted as he dragged in fast heaving breaths, his lip ring shining in the soft light of the room.

John started moving inside his sub, pushing in slow and deep. He kept the tension tight on the chain so that every time Punk moved he would feel a sharp tug in his nipples. He kept stroking into his sub as he leaned down and brushed his lips against Punk's. "Breathe slowly, baby. Slowly." Punk shook his head quickly.

"I ca- I can't."

John jerked the chain once to get Punk's attention before he let it drop back to the table. "You can." He lightly wrapped his hand around Punk's throat, stroking his thumb across his pulse point. "Eyes on me, baby." Punk's eyes met his, the green almost entirely taken over by the black of his pupils. "Breathe with me, Phil." He pressed his lips gently to Punk's, rested his thumb with the smallest bit of pressure against his pulse. "Breath with me. In … out…" Punk focused on him and took a deep breath, releasing it when John told him to. "That's good, baby. Stay with me. Breathe in …" John lay on top of Punk so that he could feel his chest expand against his. "Out …" His hips met Punk's again and again as he thrust inside him, the sweet gripping heat of his walls almost making him lose his concentration. But he stayed slow and steady, telling Punk how good he felt, how much he loved him, and over and over telling him when to breathe so that eventually they were breathing almost as one.

Punk's head calmed as he breathed with his Dom. The pleasure was still intense. But now, instead of feeling like it was going to shake him apart, it washed over him. Washed through him until all he was aware of was John's voice telling him when to breathe. In … Out … He was only aware of John's lips against his. John's skin against his own. John pushing deep inside him. He felt John reach down and take his cock ring off. His orgasm rushed up his shaft, but he didn't have to fight to hold it back. Because he was floating in such peaceful bliss that he didn't want it to end. Didn't want that orgasm to come and take away the connection he felt to his Dom. He just breathed, everything else fading. He didn't feel the hard table against his back or the shackles on his limbs. He just felt John. He sighed softly, his gaze locked on John's blue eyes. In … out… He knew he was flying and he embraced it. It felt good. So good. And the heat of John's big body let him know that he was safe. John's voice was soft and low. Punk didn't know if he was whispering or if he was hearing it through the thick fog of pleasure in his head. But he heard him. Breathe … In … Out…

He felt John pushing deeper and harder inside him, the broad head of his cock striking that sensitive bundle of nerves. And his big hand wrapped around his cock stroking and pumping him closer and closer to orgasm. He forced out a whisper. "No … don't make me come. Please, Master. Let me stay…"

John shushed him. "It's okay, baby. Trust me. Just let go. I promise you'll go even higher." He squeezed his hand around him. "Come for me, Phil."

Punk obeyed his Dom's command, pushing his hips up, letting go, releasing into John's hand. He tilted his head back against the leather pad. His orgasm coursed through his body, tightening his muscles as he strained against his shackles. Punk gasped, hovering there in a moment of pleasure so intense it took his breath away. And when he felt his Dom coming inside him he spiraled higher into another orgasm, calling out his Master's name and accepting his kiss when his lips pressed to his. Finally he collapsed back against the table, every muscle in his body completely sated.

Punk jerked against his cuffs. He barely knew what he was doing but he knew he wanted to touch John. To feel his Master. John released him from the restraints and he wrapped his limbs around John's big body, holding on tight.

John let Punk hold him so that he knew he was there and he was safe. Then with a slight grunt from Punk's weight he picked him up and carried him over to the bed in the room. He wasn't sure if Punk was aware enough to walk. Besides, he wanted to feel his slender body pressed up against his. He got them in the big bed and under the covers, Punk still wrapped around him, his face tucked into his neck. John rubbed Punk's back gently, easing him down. He felt more than heard Punk's whisper against his skin.

"Take care of me, John."

John pressed his lips to Punk's in a soft kiss. "Always."

**THE END**

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**A/N:** Well readers this is the end of this tale. I'd originally intended to do 31 chapters but this was a good cut off point. Thank you all so very, very much for reading this story and letting me know how you felt about it with your reviews, follows, and favorites. Every single one of them brought a smile to my face. This has been the most fun I've ever had writing and the interactions with you guys is what made it so. Okay, enough sappiness!

Repeat song #1 was Dave Matthews Crash Into Me. I've been saving that one ever since Punk made his deal with John. It just had this note of triumph to it – sort of like it was bringing everything full circle. Repeat song #2 was for the playroom scene, Cibo Matto's Sugar Water. I love it because they're great and it was on Buffy, but it has this light airy tone to it which matched perfectly in my head the soft easy way that Punk was flying with John in the playroom. Review for me one last time and tell me what you thought of this ending!

Now! Did you read all the way to the end of this godawful long author note? Yay! Then now you know I'll be continuing this story in another installment. Was on the fence about it, but there were some moments on RAW after where this story ends with John and or Punk that had me dying laughing. I can't help but write about them. I haven't titled it or started yet and won't until the summer when school's out and I have all those oodles of free time. Follow me here or on Twitter, I'm ShockZ314, for updates. I may post a note on this story to make it easy to find.

Thanks again everyone and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and this story!

**PS** I feel it's my responsibility to mention this. BDSM can be a wonderful thing if you are with someone you know and trust. But use common sense. Please, if this or any other BDSM story inspires you to give it a try make sure you are playing with someone knowledgeable and who is known to you. And ALWAYS have a safe word … even if it's Boy Scout. =)


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